Skyping With Strangers
by LazyMasochistBoot
Summary: What happens when Bella accidentally starts up a Skype session with a complete stranger? Hilarity and silliness, of course. Oh...and maybe love?  Lemons. Laughs. Continuation of the one-shot.
1. Skype

**READ THIS! **

**A/N: So guys, I AM BACK! If you reviewed, I replied and I told you I'd probably post an update well...I'm doing it! So...y'know, please read and sorry in advance for the long author's note...**

**FOR ANYONE WHO READ THE ONE-SHOT OF THE SAME NAME BY ME, DISREGARD THAT. I'M RUNNING A FULL LENGTH STORY NOW AND THE PREVIOUS SKYPE SEX SHOULD BE IGNORED. MMKAY? WE'RE STARTING FROM THE BEGINNING, MEANING NO SEX HAS BEEN HAD. JUST PRETEND. OKAY? OKAY. **

**Now, enjoy...and y'know...review haha**

**BPOV**

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Emmett and Seth chanted beside me as I gulped down the bottle of beer. Their fists pounded eagerly on the counter. I held the bottle from my mouth, letting the last drops of beer fall into my mouth before slamming the bottle down on the counter and cheering for myself, giving the boys hard high fives.

"Damn, Bella! What's that like number eight?" Emmett asked in awe. I could hold my liquor. One of my few talents.

"No, my friend, that was TEN!" I yelled and the bar started to whoop for me, more drinks being bought by the strangers that'd sat at the bar, watching me.

"Get the little lady anotha!" some blonde guy screeched to the chubby bartender.

"Yah!" the bar agreed loudly. The bartender slide more beers my way. Holy fuck, I was gonna be hammered.

***SWS***

"Thank you, Mr. Man," I slurred to the taxi driver, throwing him the first bill I grabbed which happened to be a fifty. "You've beeeeeen very kind," I smiled lazily as I pushed the taxi door closed. Good man, I thought to myself.

I stumbled from the curb, fiddling in my pocket for the key thingy to the building's front door. Fuck. The key refused to go in the fucking hole and that's not okay with me. What the actual fuck? Go in, Mr. Key. Do it for Bella.

30 frickin minutes later, I stumbled into my apartment, kicking the pile of clothes at my door out of the way. I plopped down on the couch, pulling my vibrating phone from my pocket and answering Emmett's call.

"Yo, Emmett, talk to me."

"Drunk Skype!"

"Hell yes. Getcha ass on, bro!" I yelled, hanging up the phone and skipping to my computer. I hurriedly logged into my Skype account, my clumsy fingers fumbling with the letters on the keyboard. What the hell? Why are these keys so small? Is that an A or a P? I typed in Emmett's username and clicked the 'call' button. The image of a bedroom popped up immediately. But no Emmett. What the fuck? He needs to clean his sheets, those are just filthy. Hypocrite. I turned on my speakers and leaned close to the microphone before shouting, "Emmett fucking McCarthy, get your fucking ass to the computer now, you turd!" He should fucking be on her by now. Ugh. I rolled my eyes and cursed at the screen before picking up my Heineken and taking another swallow. _Yum, yum, yum._ I waited and fucking waited….for five minutes and still there was no fucking Emmett. _Motherfucker. _

"Emmett, get your ass to the camera or I swear tomorrow, I'm gonna knee you in the balls so hard, you're gonna see fucking Tweety," I screeched to the camera. Ha, Tweety! Bella, you are one funny bitch. I heard heavy footsteps coming towards the camera. Yea, he better be fucking coming. "Next time, don't make me wait so long, you dunce! I-" I stopped mid-fucking-sentence as someone finally appeared in front of the camera. It sure as hell wasn't Emmett.

"Uh…hello? Yea, _who are you_?" they asked and I wasn't ashamed to admit that my jaw was fucking on the floor as I took in this guy. My panties dropped as well. Metaphorically, of course. Green eyes, fucked up sex hair and a fucking jaw that, alone, made my panties wet. He's fucking gorgeous. "Hello?" he tried again, pulling my attention away from his fuckableness. What was he saying?

My name…what was my name? Alcohol plus this guy is not good for my brain waves. "I…Emmett. I'm looking for Emmett…" _I Emmett? I'm looking for Emmett?_ Oh, I'm so smooth...

He raised a brow and looked around himself as if searching for Emmett. Sarcastic fucker, eh? "Well, sorry to disappoint but there's no Emmett here. I guess you got the wrong Skype." Fucking Skype effing things up.

"I…yea." But this was Emmett's URL though. "Hey, but this is my friends URL though so how…" What if he's kidnapped Emmett? Dun. Dun. DUNNNN.

Hot guy looked confused for a second, scratching his head. "I don't know. This is EDCullen's Skype. Who were you looking for?" He was trying to help me. That clearly means he wants to have my babies. Or however that works…..

"Uh…EDCarthy, I wasn't too far off, I guess it was just Skype acting up," I offered. He shrugged and nodded.

"Guess so. So, uh…goodbye then," he said awkwardly, running a hand though that fuck me hair.

"Yea, sorry, bye." I quickly signed out and exited the browser, before I turned the computer off, mortified. God, that was embarrassing. But at least now I've got a new face to bring to Dreamland with me. I smirked.

Who says website glitches aren't good?

**A/N: I hope you guys liked this chapter. I know it was basically nothing you didn't already know but whateves. The ext chapter will be up soon. I just wanted to give you guys something before I go to school tmrw. Perhaps your reviews can lighten up my day? **

**Review and tell me what you think? Thanks for reading! **

**~Lazy Masochist(Marie)**


	2. What Say You, CowBell?

_****NOTE** This is SOFisticated1 updating for LazyElmo here. Her internet is down, hence the absent updates. So if you've been waiting a little bit too long… calm your tits (as she would tell me, I tell you). Also! – I hacked her A/N… parentheses, they're all MINE. (only up here) ;D Enjoy!**_

**A/N: Whoa, with the alerts and stuff, this is quickly becoming my most popular fic so thanks for that. Wow. I don't have an updating schedule really for any of my fics so keep that in mind and I'll try not to take forever to update on things so yea...**

**Also, thanks to Meagan (aka Precious *waves*) for helping me out with my Skype illiteracy and I think that's it...I'm done talking. (Lies! She is **_**NEVER**_** done talking.)**

**Here's Bella and her glamorous life! Wooooo! ….that was sarcasm...**

_**Disclaimer:**_** LazyMaschoistBoot does not own Twilight or that yummy Saga… SM does. NO BUENO! (SOF – out)**

**Chapter 2: What Say You, CowBell?**

_It's getting hot in here! So take off all your clothes!_

I slapped the fuck outta my phone as it blared in my ear, waking me up. Who the fuck is calling me?

The light intruded into my room nearly blinding me with its brightness. I had a hangover from hell and Mr. Sun was not wanted.

I squinted at the screen of my phone, rolling my eyes as Emmett's name popped up on the screen.

"What, McCarthy?" I screeched into the phone, holding my head.

"You never showed up last night!" he yelled in my fucking ear.

"Stop. Yelling! And what the fuck are you talking about?" I pushed my hair from my face as I flipped over, burying my face in my pillow.

"Our drunk Skype! You never called me!"

Oh...right. Memories of the fuck hot guy I'd called instead flooded my mind. I guess I was a bit too frazzled and drunk to remember Emmett last night... "You flake!" he continued.

"Ugh. Look, I'm sorry okay? Let's go to Hot Wings tonight, I'll buy you dinner to make it up to you." Food. Emmett's weakness. Always works.

"Yes! Deal! Okay, seven o'clock. Love you, Bella-Wella!" he quickly hung up with an eager laugh.

That's my Emmett. Tacos before hoes.

**=SWS=**

"Hello, sir, how can I help you today? Would you like try one of our value meals?" I asked the pimply customer in front of me. He pushed his glasses up on his face and stared up at the menu's behind my head.

"Uhhhhh..." he said, his heavy breathing irking the hell out of me. Oh, the wonderful crowd Newton's

Fast Food brings in. Not. "Can I get a number five?" he asked. Oh, the luxurious number five. It was a crowd favorite. A triple-yes, triple-filet sandwich with extra tartar sauce. Dipped in grease and slathered with artificial flavoring. Fucking yum. A heart attack in a bun, basically.

And dare I ask-, "Would you like the combo meal with that?"

"Yes."

Of course you do. The combo meal added on a large fry and drink. With free refills of course. Surely

Mike was trying to kill these people. "For here or to go? The combo comes with free refills for For Here customers," I recited, the routine embedded in my head.

"Oh!" he said like I'd made his day. "Then for here."

I nodded and punched his order into the touch screen in front of me on the register. "That'll be $7.85 then, sir." I accepted then ten he gave me and quickly opened the drawer, handing him his change and a receipt. "There you go, I'll call your number when it's ready." I gave him the best smile I could, hopefully keeping the disgust from my face. Six more hours, Bella. Just six more hours.

**=SWS=**

"Emmett, it frickin' amazes me how you manage to scarf down two trays of wings in less than two hours without bursting the fuck open," I mentioned, as we entered my apartment after our trip to Hot Wings in which Emmett had nearly made the place run out of food.

He rubbed his stomach proudly, flopping down onto my couch. "It's all about the focus, Bells. You gotta focus on the wings; envision them in your belly and voila! They shall come to you."

"Emmett, what the fuck are you even saying?"

"I don't know, Bella. I just don't know."

Laughing at my zany friend, I headed to my bed room to change, seeing as how Emmett had managed to get sauce from _his _chicken on _my _shirt. I decided my Wonder Woman tee and SpongeBob pajama pants were company material and headed back out.

Em was sitting at the computer when I came out and headed for the kitchen. "Want something, big guy?" I asked, grabbing a bottle of water for myself.

"Do you have any chips?" he yelled back to me.

"You just ate! I'm bringing you water," I insisted, grabbing a second bottle for him.

"You suck," he commented, taking the bottle from me then continuing to play around with the computer.

"Mmhmm." I sat criss-cross on the couch, flipping through the channels. Why is it that there are so many of these crappy reality shows on? Ugh.

I saw Emmett's belt on the table and took that as the usual sign that he was going to stay the night. I actually loved when he did. I love my privacy here but sometimes it was nice to have a familiar face to wake up to in the morning. Plus, Em was my oldest and closest friend and I loved his company.

Emmett gargled something at me and I turned to stare at him as he swallowed down the water in his mouth. "Who's EDCullen?" he asked.

Oh God, don't even remind me. "I uh...I don't know," I lied, staring intently at the TV.

"The name is in your previous Skype call list," he added with a suspicious brow raise.

"Ugh, fine, okay. I accidentally Skyped with some random guy last night," I admitted, covering my face as a blush flooded into my cheeks.

He laughed. "How'd you do that?"

"You got me drunk last night! I thought I was dialing you and ugh! I yelled at the guy, it was terrible. He must've thought I was a freaking psycho." I pushed my hair from my face, shaking my head.

"Only you, Bella. Only you," he shook his head.

"Yea yea," I shrugged. "But he was fucking hot so whatever."

"Hot, you say? Go on."

"Ooh! He was just...and he made me...phew!" I made weird gestures and gyrations with my body, unable to express in words what this guy did to me.

"That hot, huh?" Emmett grinned.

"Yes! I mean... He was delicious. He had this like perfectly messy hair and these green eyes that were like...I was like insta-wet. Gosh, I just wanted to grab onto his hair and just ride hi-"

"Bella," Emmett snickered.

"What?" I moaned, tearing myself away from my very intimate daydream with Mr. Skype. Emmett pointed behind himself at the computer screen. The screen in which Mr. Skype was on. He was smirking at the camera, looking as fuck hot as he had yesterday. Oh my God, he heard me.

"I'm going to kill you, Emmett!" I screeched, rushing to the computer to exit out.

"Wait-" Mr. Skype started but I cut him off as I closed the program.

"Emmett fucking McCarthy! I can't believe you did that!" I yelled, smacking him repeatedly.

He chuckled, standing. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! He was online! It was funny!"

"Ugh!" I stomped as he walked off to the bathroom still laughing his ass off. I cannot believe he did

that. Hot guy saw me in my Wonder Woman pajamas. Oh God. I covered my face with my hands.

Emmett must have a frickin' death wish. Damn him. I need new friends.

My computer beeped with the familiar notification sound. What now? I asked myself as I sat down and clicked on the little message bar in the corner of the screen.

Skype opened up again. When I read the screen, my jaw dropped. Seriously?

_EDCullen has added you to his/her friends list._

**Confirm or Deny?**

Holy fuck. He wants to be friends? Even after having heard my psychotic spiel? And having seen my stupid username, EZCowBell? And he wrote a message with the invite too.

_What say you, CowBell? Want to be my friend?_

Holy hell, Mr. Skype. Do I?

**=SWS=**

**Ooh, I'm a tease. I know. Slow burn people, slow burn. But hey, at least I updated again! Ha! So Bella works at Newton's Fast Food(catchy title right?) and Emmett's a psycho. Loving it.**

**So what say you, guys? Would you be EDCullen's friend?**

**Also, any of you have crazy Skype stories? Or dare I ask: any of you had crazy Skype sex? Actually, don't answer that...**

**Reviewers get a Number Five combo meal to go! HA!**

**~LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	3. Mrs Bella Skype

_****NOTE** This is SOFisticated1 updating for LazyElmo… again. I'm such a good-hearted person. :P Anywho, this update is only one of many she's sent me. YUP, I have LOTS of chaps to work on… clearly school isn't challenging enough for her – better for you. I didn't beta much either. Just fixed some common errors and tweaked it a bit. ;) Don't forget to look out for my parentheses… Lazy wants'em. SMH. Toodles.**_

**A/N: My internet has been down!(*nods* STILL!) The chapter last week and this one were only made possible by my lovely friend (*smiles*) SOFisticated1. She's posting for me. Thanks babe! (You're Welcome!)**

**So, I'm writing this while I wait for my internet to come back, ha-ha. I was a good girl (pft!) and I did my homework at lunch so I have some time (good two shoes). I best get in the habit of prewriting, eh? (Yes, will save me time. :P) More fuckery (ya mouth!) ahead, plus maybe we'll find out if EZCowBell wants to be friends with EDCullen... (obviously - hellllooooo)**

_**Disclaimer:**_**LazyMasochistBoot (idk what the BOOT deal is) does not own Twilight or any yummies within that Saga… SM does. *pouts* (SOF #offline)**

**Chapter 3: Mrs. Bella Skype. **

_What say you, CowBell? Want to be my friend?_

Holy fuck, that shit has been running through my head since yesterday. I hadn't touched my computer since. The page still sat there taunting me, the cursor perfectly centered between _Confirm_ and _Deny_. I almost pressed _Confirm_ then I chickened out. Then I almost hit _Deny_ but I chickened out. Ugh. Damn EDCullen for sending that request. It was a lose-lose situation.

If I hit confirm then he'd request a Skype session and I'd have to face the stranger that I'd outright admitted to wanting to fuck by the way. Emmett is forever on my shit-list now. Thank God he at least stopped my sentence where he did. Who knows what else I would have said? But I can't look ED in the face after all the shit that's been said. I don't have the guts I tell you!

But if I hit _Deny_ then I'll hate myself for missing out on a potentially good Skype chat. What if Mr. Skype wanted to bone me as much as I wanted him too? If I hit _Deny_, I'd never know. He could be a great guy that actually wants to talk to me even after seeing what an arse I am. Meh.

Basically, it all comes down to... Am I ruled more by my brain or my pussy?

"Definitely my pussy."

"What?" the bald bear of a man in front of me yelled. Holy hell, I'm at work!

"Can I speak to the manager? I've been standing here for ten minutes!" I must've zoned out. But dude, calm your...tits. No seriously, he had tits bigger than I did.

"Sir, there's no need for that," I said in my best sugary-sweet voice, "How about a complimentary order of fries for your wait?" …you grease-loving savage.

He raised a brow and stroked one of his chins as if in thought then gave me a sly, ugly ass smirk. "I suppose...well, maybe if you threw in a milkshake, as well..."

Fucking swindler.

**XxSWSxx**

I stared at the screen, biting the skin around my nails off, seeing as how my nails were long gone.

_Confirm_ or _Deny_? _Confirm_ or _Deny_? _Confirm _or_ fucking Deny!_ I glared at the screen, watching the mouse cursor dart back and forth between the two. Maybe I should do it at random. I'll close my eyes, move the mouse around and wherever the cursor is when I open my eyes is what I click. Yeah.

I close my eyes and shake the mouse around back and forth for a bit. Come on, Bella. Open your eyes.

Or just click. Yeah. Just click.

**BEEP!**

The fuck? I jumped back from the computer as it beeps at me. The fuck. Opening my eyes, I stare at the screen. It's a Skype message. The fuck? I should really make my account private or some shit.

I click on the pop-up. Shit, it's from _him_.

What do I do? What the fuck do I do! I should fucking read it, that's what I should do. Ok, ok, ok. I take a deep breath before scrolling down to view the full message.

_I must say, CowBell, I'm a bit hurt that you haven't answered me back or accepted my request. I was so looking forward to seeing your face again...and being friends, of course..._

_You wound me, CowBell. You wound me._

UNF. Sarcastic, sexy fucker. Come to me.

Do I reply to him? What should I say? Oh gosh...I sound like a lame ass teenager. Just be fucking you, Bella. Just wing it. With shaky fingers, I started to type the first things that came to mind.

_Well, Mr. ED, I do apologize for having taken so long to reply to you. But it's good to know I was on your mind...am I there often?_

I smirked as I hit send. There; straight to the point, a bit flirty, clever and sarcastic. It's all me, in a nutshell.

Perfect.

Now what? Do I just sit here and wait for a response? Is that desperate? Yes. I'll just go get a snack or something. Yeah.

One pack of Ritz crackers later, I was still waiting for a response. Ugh. He was still online, I could see that much. The little bubble by his name was still green. Why the fuck wasn't he responding to me?

Damn him. No, fuck him. I moved to exit Skype just as the computer beeped again. Yes! I mean...oh.

_More often than you should be._

What! Oh my God! More often than I should be? He thinks about me? Try not to freak out, Bella.

_Try._

Gah! I should reply while he's still at the computer.

_More often than I should be? Well, you know, I just have that effect on people...it's a gift. *smirks*_

And send. I tap my fingers as I wait. Deep breaths. Stare at the screen. Jump as another message comes!

Eep!

_...are you on another person's mind exclusively?_

Holy shit, he wants to know if I'm single. I bite my lip trying to thinking of a clever reply. Emmett's the only person in my life with a dick, so yes Mr. Skype, I'm single.

_If I didn't know better, I'd say you were coming on to me, Mr. Skype…_

Go, Bella, go Bella, go! Oops, but that wasn't much of an answer. I type a quick addition.

_But, to answer your question, no._

I sit and wait and wait...and wait for another ten minutes before I'm ready to give up and go to bed already. Yes, I'm pouting and pissed. But Bella waits for no one! …...Lies. I waited five more minutes.

**BEEP! BING!**

Two notifications! You've officially redeemed yourself for your late tendencies, sir. I clicked on the first linky-thing.

_You haven't asked but no one's thinking about me exclusively either...I'm sure you're happy to hear that. _Cocky, eh?

_Just as I was happy to hear your news..._

The message ends there. Hmm. I scroll down and see that the second notification was for an attachment. Eagerly, I open it. The video clip he's sent makes me laugh my ass off. It's a short video of him sitting in front of the computer screen doing the most ridiculous dance in celebration and chanting, "Yes!" over and over. The caption beneath the video reads: _CowBell is single._

I hold my stomach as I continue to laugh at him and how fucking cute he is with his tousled hair and cheerful jade frickin eyes. God, I must marry this man.

_You're adorable_, I quickly reply back, a grin still on my face.

_Among other things. Goodnight, CowBell_, he replies.

And somehow, I'm not mad that the conversation is ending. It seems like a perfect finish.

_Goodnight, Mr. Skype._

_Sweet dreams..._

Ahh, he's lingering! That means he doesn't really want to leave. Yes! Ball is in my court. I think fast and run my fingers through my hair before I snap a quick picture of myself blowing a kiss at the camera.

Cheesy as hell, but I look hot, if I do say so myself. I'm all flushed from laughing and my hair is perfectly messy and my lips are like... awesomely pouty in the pic. Perfect. Thank you body for cooperating right now.

Briskly typing, _Sweet dreams_, I attach the picture and send it. I bite my lip like it's my last meal as I wait for his last response. I hope I didn't keep him waiting too long.

_I'm sure to have sweet dreams now, beautiful girl._

And cue me dying. This man… is perfect. And single. Mrs. Bella Skype. Yes, it certainly has a ring to it.

**A/N: TA-DA! Another chapter! Yay! I'm so getting into writing this story now! Super excited! No, she didn't accept the request yet but, hey, they're talking! And picture messaging! That earns me some cool points, right? I think so. **

**Also, I want to thank my buds Meaggy and Soph for their Skype savvy-ness. Believe it or not, I've never Skyped before. Ha-ha, the irony...**

**So, guys...you know...keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the chapters rolling along...deal? I love you guys! Thanks for all the alerts and favorites! They make me smile! **

**And also, let me know if the italics made it hard to figure out who was talking and I'll try and fix it for you guys...mmkay? Kay, bye! **

**~LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	4. Now Offline

_****NOTE** SURPRISE! This is SOFisticated1 updating for LazyElmo. Just helping out my little homie. Parentheses are my comments because Elmo finds them amusing... :3. Laters. **_

_**Wait! Fuck this shit. I'm updating for her allll of the time. Do you know that she beta's/pre-reads my FemSlash fic… YUP. She LOVES the job too. So, self-pimpage *pops collar* - Go read Movie Nights under SOFisticated1 (no, I will not link you lazy asses. Search me.). If you don't like Girlie action then check out Love, Music. It's E/B AU with the usual pairings. Get at me! xoxox **_

**A/N: I HATE NOT HAVING INTERNET CONNECTION! (So do I.) I JUST finished writing chapter 3 and now I'm starting four out of boredom (that's obvious). I really wish I could have posted today (which is Monday the 12****th**** -that was Elmo, not SOF) cuz I was super eager for you guys' thoughts. But anyway, who knows when this chapter will actually be out... (I do! 9-22-2011 :D!)**

**Thank you to the reviewers and the lurkers (*waves at the lurkers who never review*), you're all awesome! Keep it up...pwease? (Yes, she begged.)**

**So, now, enjoy and yea... enjoy. (*hip thrust*)**

_**Disclaimer:**_**LazyMasochistBoot (idk what the BOOT deal is) does not own Twilight or any yummies within that Saga… SM does. *pouts* (SOF #offline)**

**Chapter 4: Now Offline**

"Aw, Bella, you're so cute! Having a Skype romance! Awww," Emmett clearly wanted to die because he pinched my cheeks and fucked up my hair like I was a five year old kid. I slapped his hand so hard, I was sure I left a mark.

"This is why I don't tell you anything, Em," I folded my arms and pouted. I had just let him read the messages from last night. I don't know what I was thinking showing them to him. He has the serious capacity of a chimp.

"Okay, fine, fine. So, this Mr. Skype, you're into him?" he asked, nudging my leg with his. I turned and sat back on the couch, tucking one leg under the other.

"I mean...I don't know him...but he's fuck-hot and funny and charming and sweet… you know? But like, where is he? Who is he? I don't know shit about him. So, I do like him but... into him? That would be creepy considering he's a stranger."

"Then ask him about himself," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Emmett, I don't know the guy! I can't get all in his business like that so soon. He'll think I'm some sorta psycho." I smacked his arm in frustration. It was times like this when I wished that I had a female friend to talk to. Guys just don't get it.

"Well, then, I don't know what to say to you, Bells! Either ask the guy about himself or keep the mystery alive! That is my final answer."

I rolled my eyes. But, as much as I'd hate to admit it, he was right. I should just casually bring it up in a conversation. If he even tries to talk to me again because there is no way I'm initiating that conversation.

**xxSwSxx**

"Come on," I mumbled to myself, willing the computer to beep with my eyes. It was eight o'clock at night. Around almost 24 hours since he'd sent me the message yesterday. And I was waiting, praying, for another one today.

I couldn't type him a message because girls shouldn't have to take the first step. I mean, I'm more of a 'You come to me' type of person. But I'm also a 'Don't keep me waiting' type of person. Ugh. I don't even know the guy and he's already got me screwed up in the head. Who would've thought I'd become dick-whipped by green eyes and a fuckable looking jaw? Hmm.

"Damn you, EDCullen!" I yelled, slamming my fists on the computer table.

"Send me a message!"

**BEEP!**

My wishing worked? Holy hell, let's test this. "Uh...send me a latte!" I yell but no delicious drink comes my way. Hmm, guess it only works with messages. Shrugging and with eager hands, I open the message.

_Are you busy or are you the 'wait for him to message first' type? *smirk*_

That sexy bastard has figured me out! Why do I find that so hot?

_Oh! Right, Mr. Skype. I almost FORGOT about you..._

I smirk as I send the sarcastic reply. Score one for me, zero for Mr. Skype. His reply is almost instant.

_Forgot about me? I find that hard to believe. Especially since you've been dreaming about me for days..._

My jaw drops. What. The. Fuck. How does he know he's been the star of my wettest dreams lately?

_Says who? _

I ask, looking around me for signs of a camera or some shit. What if he's spying on me?

_It was wishful thinking. By the way, you answered with a question I can tell I was right. _

My eyes narrow at his words. He thinks he's so frickin' smart. Before I can reply, another message pops up.

_What do you dream about, CowBell? _

Sex. Sex with you. Sex with you on every possible surface. No biggie. Instead of saying that, I play it cool.

_Certainly not about you, Mr. EDC. _

His reply is quick again and I can almost hear him chuckle in my ear. Gah!

_Lies, lies, lies._

Again, I play it cool as if I'm not a giddy schoolgirl on the inside right now.

_You're awfully confident._

_Not confident. Hopeful._

Hopeful? Hmm, Mr. Skype, whatever do you mean?

_Hopeful for what?_

_Hopeful I've been on your mind just as much as you've been on mine. Now tell me, what do you dream about?_

Oh. Em. Geezus. That has to be the cheesiest, sweetest thing ever. I've been on his mind? Fucking score! Yes! EDC, you've been on my mind a sickening amount, but if you keep badgering I might have to scare you away with my crazy sex dream talk. So, I keep it relaxed and mysterious.

_...things_

_Big things?_

Was that an innuendo? Marry me now, you perv. Marry. Me. Now.

_You're dirty._

_You like?_

Fuck yes, I do! Any woman with a functional vagina would like it!

_I love. And yes, VERY big..._

_I do hope I live up to your expectations._

What if he has a tiny cock? Nah... He's too hot for that. I doubt it. I seriously doubt it. I believe in the power of EDC peen!

_I'm sure you will._

_What exactly are we talking about here?_

Your cock, duh.

_...the big things I dream about, of course._

His next reply takes for-fucking-ever to come and I start in on my fingers, biting them like a maniac.

Have I said too much and scared him away? Damn it, Bella! You shouldn't have started the dick-talk!

**BEEP!** Frick yes, a reply.

_I dream about things, as well, CowBell..._

Asdfghjkl! Like what, like what, like what!

_What kind of things, EDC?_

_...wet things. Goodnight, CowBell. _

I literally almost topple over out of the chair as I read his message. Wet things? Pussy, pussy, pussy.

He's having filthy dreams about me too! This is epic! This is beyond epic! This is... be-epic!

And why is he saying goodnight now? Just when we're getting somewhere, argh!

_Wait!_

I pray to Jeebus that he hasn't left the computer already.

_Yes?_

Thank you, Jeebus! With a deep breath, I decide to take Emmett's advice and try to get some info from Mr. Skype.

_What's your name?_

Again, he takes forever to say something back. When he finally does, I slump back in the chair, defeated.

_Mr. Skype. Now, goodnight, CowBell._

_**EDCullen is now offline. **_

**A/N: Still with me, guys? (SOF: BUURRNNN!) I hope so. They're starting to talk more so that's good but she still hasn't accepted the request. What the fuck is up with that, right? Bella told me she doesn't want to accept it... she's a stubborn bitch (like her creator).**

**Anyway, with this whole prewritten thing going, I might be able to set up an update schedule. Perhaps… every Wednesday or something? Sound good? (Let us know please. Spanks.)**

**P.S. I hope you guys don't mind the shorter chapters. But they help me to get chaps to you guys sooner so that's good right?**

**(P.S.S.) Question: Are you a bit pissed that Mr. Skype didn't tell his name or are you intrigued by the mystery he's providing? Hmm**

**~LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	5. He Knows

_****NOTE** Guess what? Yup. I knew smart people dwelled here.**_

_**This is SOFisticated1 updating for LazyElmo once again! She's busy at studying hard. Well, that's what she's saying. Still has no internet but that's ok because I am a people helper. It's aallll good. In case you forgot – parentheses are all me and my unnecessary comments wanted by LazyMasochist.**_

**A/N: Hi! (*waves*) This is being written on the 14****th****(August!). No idea when it'll actually be posted, considering I still have no freaking internet! (STILL true) Grrr. Anyway, enjoy this (Oh they will…) and...yeah. (Always has a way with words. Lovely)**

_**Disclaimer:**_**LazyMasochistBoot (idk what the BOOT deal is) does not own Twilight or any yummies within that Saga… SM does. *pouts* (SOF #offline)**

**Chapter 5: He Knows**

"He just logged off!" I explained to Emmett the next day. This whole mystery thing was intriguing but come on; he could answer the simple, most basic question? Ugh. Mr. Skype was pissing me off a bit. "I took your stinking advice and asked him something about himself and he just logged off!"

Em grabbed a box of cookies from the kitchen then flopped down onto the couch beside me. "Well," he sighed, "I don't know what to say, Bella. Give him some time maybe? I mean maybe he doesn't know he's pissing you off. Maybe he's trying to be mysterious cause he thinks you'll be into that. Let him know you're not."

"I can't do that without being a bitch though. What am I supposed to say? 'Thanks for the effort but your shit doesn't work on me?' He'll think I'm a first class cunt!"

"Language, Bells," he joked. "Look, I'm a guy, so I know how our minds work. We like when girls speak their mind and say what they want us to know. Just tell him and stop being a pussy!" He punched my shoulder playfully. "That's not the Bella I know."s

I hate it when he's right. "Why've you been so wise lately?" I asked with a brow raise. "That's not the _Emmett _I know."

"Oh." He scratched the back of his neck and actually _put down _the cookies. _He put them down_. That's how you know something's off.

"Emmett, you're scaring me. What's up?"

"Calm down, calm down, it's nothing major. I just...I met someone. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe…"

"Sorta, kinda, maybe? Did you or did you not!" I yelled excitedly. Emmett hasn't had a girlfriend in ages. I can't wait to meet the lucky bitch.

"I did...her name's Rose." It was hard to ignore the way he smiled when he said her name. Oh god.

"Rose? Sounds like a bitch." I shrugged. It does though.

"No! It's...short for Rosalie."

I wish I could've done a spit take. "Rosalie? You're dating my boss!" I fucking hated that bitch's guts. She was always riding me about cleaning the fryers and taking out the trash and shit when her primped-up blonde ass hardly did anything at all!

"Bella, come on, don't freak out! She's really nice once you get to kno-"

"Once I get to know her? I've known her for three years and she's _always _been a bitch to me! I know her much better than you do!"

"Bella," he huffed, "she's a good person."

"Bull. Shit," I scoffed. "She's a cunt and I hate her. How the fuck did you two even...what the fuck, Em?" I yelled. This was ridiculous. She's sunk her claws into my best friend! Ugh!

"I ran into her at the post office yesterday and... we got to talking. One thing led to another and..."

"You boned my mortal enemy?" I screeched, throwing a pillow at him hard. "How could you do this? For one: I hate her mother-effing guts and you know that. Two: She's my boss and if shit goes south with you guys, I could lose my job and three: just...how the fuck could you do this to me?"

"I really like her, Bells. Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't consider your job...just...I'm really into her."

He looked so fucking miserable and sounded so fucking sincere. God, he must really be into the bitch. I can't deny him of what he is so obviously into. I thought about Mr. Skype. I'd be pissed if I could never talk to him again and I've never even physically met the guy, so I can't even imagine how Em might feel if I bitch at him for _dating _a bitch.

"Fine," I surrender to his wide brown eyes, "I give you two my blessings. But if she fucks up, I will not hesitate to cut her." I don't know if I mean that figuratively or not.

"Really? You're awesome!" he grinned, pulling me into a tight bear hug. "I gotta have my favorite girl's blessing," he smiled, ruffling up my hair.

"Yea, yea," I said, but I couldn't keep the grin from my face. I loved the fucker too much.

**XxSWSxx**

Nine o'clock. No messages. Bored out of my mind, I'm trying not to get on Skype or think about Mr. EDC... failing miserably.

I miss him. No one's called me CowBell today. I pout and cast a glance at the computer in my lap. Why haven't you beeped today? Come on, beep for me. _Please?_

I stared at it for five minutes straight and it still didn't beep. Where the fuck was Mr. Skype? What if something happened? Oh my god, I'll never get to marry him or do him or go on a date with him or do him... did I say that already?

I just want my Mr. Skype.

Emmett's snore scares the ever-living fuck out of me and I jump suddenly as his elbow rams into my thigh. He's sleeping over again tonight. I smile down at him because there's just nothing cuter than a sleeping Emmett. I love our friendship. I love that he and I can share a bed without all the weird sex stuff happening. Just two friends.

Not to say that he wasn't absolutely gorgeous but he was Emmett. He's been my best friend since sophomore year and yes, of course, at one point we had a thing but ugh, when I think about it now... Eck.

He's like my brother.

I yawn with the last thought and lean back against the headboard. Come on, Mr. Skype, send me something. Wish me goodnight, at least.

**XxSWSxx**

When I wake up a few hours later, I'm completely confused. Somehow I'm under the covers and the laptop has made its way to the bedside table. Must've been Emmett, I thought but when I look over to him, he's fast asleep.

A glance at the clock tells me it's midnight. Hmm, maybe Mr. Skype has sent me something. I grab the laptop and pull it to me, leaning up on my elbow to see it. I drag my finger across the mouse-pad, bringing the computer from its sleep mode. Hmm, that's weird. The Skype page is already opened.

The fuck?

There's a whole time-line of messages from two hours ago. And I initiated the conversation?

_Like, hi, Mr. Skype. Where are you?_

_I was wondering when you'd finally give in and message first..._

_Ugh. It was a test? I knew it! You like suck, Mr. Skype!_

_I suck? Haha. Okay, CowBell. So, how are you?_

_Totally awesome. You?_

_...great. You feeling alright?_

_Like, I'm super. Can I ask you something, Mr. Skype?_

_Of course._

_Yesterday when I asked your name, were you... trying to be mysterious by not telling me?_

_To be honest, yes… I guess._

_Like, as much as I appreciate that, it'd be nice if you know... you weren't mysterious and kinda just like answered my questions..._

…_.okay, CowBell. Thanks for telling me that._

_Like, no prob. You know, I really like you, Mr. Skype..._

_I like you too, EZ._

_*smiles and yawns* Well, I best be getting to bed, Mr. Skype._

_Sweet dreams, CowBell._

_Nighty-night._

Umm... what the fuck did I just read? I did not fucking type that and I do not say 'like' that many times. Ever.

The hell?

"See?" Emmett said behind me, scaring the shit out of me. "I got some answers for you."

I grabbed a pillow and smacked the grin right off his face. "You also made me look like a douche. Since when do I talk like Malibu Barbie? When have you ever heard me say 'like, I'm super'?"

He shrugged. "I was trying to sound like a girl. Clearly, I need work but whatever! I got you the answers you wanted! He was trying to be mysterious and he liked that you spoke up!"

"You told him I liked him!"

"And he said he liked you too!" My cheeks flushed red.

I growled. "Go to sleep, Emmett."

"You're welcome," he commented, tucking the pillow under his head and turning away to head to bed.

I crossed my arms as huffed as I reread the messages again. He had to have known it wasn't me sending him those messages. I mean, I know we haven't talked _that_ much but come on, he should know I don't talk like _that_.

I decide to find out. I open up a fresh message box and type a brief question.

_You know it wasn't me sending those messages, don't you?_

It's twelve at night so I don't expect him to reply back but just as I reach to turn the computer off, it beeps with a message.

_I know._

He knows.

I go to sleep with the biggest smile on my face.

**A/N: D'aww, right? You know Emmett, he has to fuck around. I was trying to infuse a bit of Bella's life in here and a little less Edward you know...fill in the blanks and all that jazz.**

**Edward will be back next chapter, no worries. Perhaps he'll be in webcam form! No way! I said MAYBE. *smirk***

**Don't forget to review, guys! (You can… she won't die if you don't') Seriously...don't forget. Hehee.**

**Next chapter in a week! (Guess what? It's doooonneeee… in my inbox!)**

**Question: How would you feel if your best friend dated your boss/mortal enemy? (Looks like trivia time again.,, don't answer her. :P)**

**~LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	6. I Really Don't Like You

_****NOTE**I'm not even going to tell you who I am… because you should just know by now, lol. Lazy here will tell you anyways. Reminder: Parentheses are MINE. :D**_

**A/N: Comcast is full of cunts (sets bra on fire); they won't gimme my internet back and I fear SOFisticated1 (*waves*) will get tired of updating for me (yawns, not really)...haha, nah, she frickin loves me (here we go again – Impossible.). Hehee.**

**But anyways... I think it's about that time for Edward and Bella to see each other again...what say you, readers? (YES PLEASE!) Uh-huh! BTW I want to remind you guys that no INTERNET means no REPLIES (I can always have at'em *wiggles eyebrows*), which means I can't answer you guys' reviews. It sucks (ya think?), I know. Trust me, I know. But just know that I'm not ignoring you, okay (Obviously... If you can't do 2+2 – no internet, no replies - then reading is above you… ha!)? Okay.**

**Without further ado, I bring you SkypeBell and SkypeCullen (still working on the names... [PARENTHESES ARE MINES! Grrr. How about EZSkype and EDSkype? No? I tried.])**

**Some will bitch at me for the ending (*gasps*) BUT there will be an update tomorrow (um, hmm.. I don't know if this is still her plan people!), so don't hate me too much, mmkay?**

**Love you guys!**

_**Disclaimer:**_**LazyMasochistBoot (I know what the 'Boot' is for now, hehee) does not own Twilight or any yummies within that Saga… SM does. *pouts* **

**Chapter Six: I Really Don't Like You**

After a few days away from the hellhole, it's time to head back to the luxury eatery that is Newton's Fast Food. Oh and guess what? Mike's out sick so Miss Rosalie-bitch fucker-Hale is in complete control today. If I don't scrub the fryer, she tells Mike, if I drop a burger-which I do often- she tells Mike. If I even have _one _strand of hair sticking from my hairnet while I work in the kitchen, she will fucking snitch on me faster than you can say 'bitch'. And to top it all off, I made the mistake of eating french fries for breakfast-Newton's french fries- and my stomach has been growling a heavy tune all morning. So. Much. Pain. This food is dangerous.

I don't have the time or patience for the shit Rosalie puts down and if she gets in my face over some stupid crap, I plan on snatching every strand of her unnaturally blonde hair out. Yea, I'll lose my job but mothafucka, I'm _Bella Swan_, I can do much better than Newton's Fast Food! ...maybe McDonalds is hiring...

"Bella!" Rosalie's shrill voice yells to me and she snaps her fingers in my face. My fists clench together, as I resist kicking some ass.

"Yes," I grit out through painfully clenched teeth.

"Can I see you in my office, please?" she snaps. Your _office_? Biatch, you don't have an office. You have a cubby in the back room. This is fast food not a law firm. Delusional hussy.

She turns on her heel, her ponytail smacking Seth, the fry cook, in the face. He stands shocked for a moment before realizing the patty on his grill is burning. I hold back laughter as he curses loudly and shoves the black meat to the floor. Rosalie holds the door open and I squeeze into the small, cramped room.

"Please, have a seat. I have something very important to discuss with you," she explains, squeezing between boxes to get to her tiny chair. I sit opposite her on the blue lawn chair. This place is ridiculous. Pilgrims live better than this.

"What is it, Rosalie?" I say, managing to keep some of the agitation from my voice.

"It's about Emmett," she sighs, focusing on the stapler on her desk in rapt interest. Is the great Rosebitch... nervous? Gasp!

"What about Emmett?"

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, "He informed me that you know about us now."

Folding my arms I recline back, shrugging nonchalantly. "Indeed, he did." _Squirm, bitch! _I yell in my head.

"Dammit!" she exclaims, slamming her hands on the desk. "Look, apparently Emmett thinks you're some type of God, so I need to know that we're okay. Because if we're not cool then Emmett and I are not cool… and I would really like to be cool with Emmett!" she gasps out. The fuck? I didn't catch half of that.

"What exactly are you trying to say here?"

"Ugh. Must I spell it out?" she mumbles under her breath. "I really like Emmett and I would like to keep seeing him. But he knows I hate you and you hate me so I promised I'd at least talk to you and try to squash the shit between us."

"That's not going to happen, you know that right?" I laugh.

"I know. But, for Emmett's sake, can we at least pretend to not hate each other's guts?"

For Emmett. "Fine," I shrug. "But don't take it seriously. Because I really don't like you," I say honestly.

"I don't like you either," she agrees, pulling out a mirror and checking her make-up as if I'm not even there.

"Glad we established this," I say standing.

"Mmhmm. Bye bitch!" she calls as I open the door.

I chuckle. "Fuck you too, Rosalie. Fuck you too."

xx**SWS**xx

I trudge into my apartment, dragging my feet. "Thank fuck I'm home!" I yell to my empty home.

Flopping down on the couch, I kick my shoes off and rub my aching feet. I fucking hate standing up all day. I'm a lazy bum and I wanna stay that way!

I smell like fry grease and my shoes have said grease on them and my hair has the horrid smell of the hairnet on it. God only knows how many dirty heads have worn that. Note to self: buy your own hairnet.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I groan as I read the caller idea, seeing it's my mother. I've ignored her calls three times this week. Obviously she doesn't get the clue.

"Hi, mom," I sigh.

"Bella! You haven't answered my calls, avoiding me are you?" she laughs. Yes. Yes I am, mom.

For the next hour, I have a long-winded, boring ass conversation with her which consists of me going 'yes mom' and 'no mom' as she asks the most pointless questions. She wants to know why I haven't gotten a pet to keep me company, why I haven't found a new job, why I still 'hang with but not fuck with' Emmett. Her words, not mine. Intrusive, yes she is. When she finally gets off the phone to go and feed her new husband, Pius, I sigh in relief and flop back down.

Also, what kind of name is _Pius_?

A fucked one.

Mmm. I yawn, snuggling into my couch pillow. So tired. So...tired...

**BEEP!**

Shit! I shoot up on the couch, eyes wide. The hell? The computer...ugh.

I drag my laptop from my bag on the table and sit it in my lap. What the hell are you beeping for?

Skype.

Mr. Skype.

A message.

Eep!

_CowBell, I noticed we're still not 'friends'. Ignoring my request, I see..._

_Wounded, once again, I am. But, even though you won't be my friend...will you be my Skype buddy? I could use a friendly face right now...your choice. Answer or decline?_

Accept or decline what?

Just as I ask myself the question, the computer starts playing my preset calling tone for...Skype. Oh

God...

**EDCullen calling.**

**Answer or Decline?**

Holy shit, he did not! He's calling me? Oh God, what do I do? That fucker could've given me a broader warning! Damn him.

Must look presentable! Must look presentable! I reach a hand up to tidy my hair and pull it from the sloppy bun it's in and my elbow smacks against the mouse, clicking something. The ringing stops and I close my eyes tight. Please don't tell me I clicked 'answer' when I look like hell. _Please._ Peeking with one eye open, I was met with an emerald gaze and a sexy smirk.

"_Hello, CowBell._"

Oh God.

**A/N: *peeks* still love me? Not really? Understandable...**

**But I still love you guys and I promise that an update will be up tomorrow (if that's how she still wants it then NO PROBLEM)! It's prewritten and just waiting to be reviewed, if ya catch my drift...REVIEW (*waves flag* love her)! Haha. And remember that I'll reply to all and every review as soon as my net returns. In the meantime, sorry! (She's nice for apologizing… isn't she?)**

**I hope you laughed at least once during this. Several have told me they have and I cry happy tears every time they say it (…where am i?)... Sometimes I question my humor. Meh, authors are very insecure, you know? Ha. So...the story...is it 'haha' or 'bleh' funny or no? I need to know these things!**

**Question (you already asked one): Newton's Fast Food or McDonalds?**

**Your answering is critical because Newton's is taking applications now! Eep!**


	7. I Like the Big, Juicy, Thick Ones

_****NOTE** This is SOFisticated1… AGAIN. Sorry this update is a few hours off… I forgot… LAZY reminded me… I might have said "Oh shit!"…and my (yes, MY) Yankees have lost to the Detroit Tigers. I might be wallowing away THOSE sorrows with a Corona right now. For those of you too young to even know of Corona… hit the X and LEAVE NOW. :) Wait, stay for the fic, just skip this NOTE.**_

_**Parentheses are mine… ENJOY!**_

**A/N: Rah! I'm back and it took me for-fucking-ever (would correct her language, but I gave up on that months ago) to crank out this chapter because I was stressing (she really has a head full of grey hairs now *laughs*) over how their convo should go. Bella quickly told me to just 'calm my tits and write'. (ROFL)**

**(smart) Bitch...**

**Anywho, STILL NO NET so once again this chapter is brought to you by the wonderful SOFisticated1 (*waves*) and by the number six... HA! (I don't get it…) She's a sweetie (*bows*) with an undying urge to play Word Feud with me (*hangs head in shame* I have yet to beat her. Smartass. BUT in my defense I'm not much of a scrabble player so… yeah) - ick. So go and show her stories some love. (YAY! *pimpage*)**

**The reviews and alerts have been frickin awesome. You guys are so sweet to me. Much love! *cries* (*hands LAZY tissues* SMH)**

**To keep the show moving now (*grabs popcorn*), please enjoy the first of many awkward (her middle name) Skype's between CowBell and EDCullen.**

_**Disclaimer:**_**LazyMasochistBoot does not own Twilight or any yummies within that Saga… SM does. **

**Chapter 7: I Like the Big, Juicy, Thick Ones (Laugh – you know you want to. I am.)**

For about thirty seconds I'm sure I was sporting the most unattractive face known to man. My mouth was hanging open, gaping at the camera as I tried to think of something to say. I was fucking mortified. Betrayed by my clicking elbow. And now...this sexy motherfucker is smirking at me and I'm blubbering like a fish out of water.

"CowBell," he greeted again, this time his voice taking on a bit of a worried edge. Hell, _I'm _worried for myself. I may never live this shit down. I'm positive I look like crap.

"M-Mr. Skype," I acknowledge finally, my voice coming out a bit high and pitchy. Oh my God, Bella, suck it the fuck up and talk to the guy. "Fancy seeing you here." Did...did I really just say that?

He laughs, running a hand through his hair and tugging the ends a bit. "Yea..."

He thinks I'm stupid. He'll never want to have my bronze haired babies now. "Dude," I breath out, "I'm...not normally so...spazzed out but you shocked the hell outta me popping up on my screen like that!" I admit accusingly.

"Sorry, but I mean...you didn't have to click 'answer'!" he defends.

"I didn't! My elbow slipped."

"Your...elbow?" he asks, a thick brow raised high and a slight twitch to his lips. The fucker's going to laugh at me.

"Yes. My elbow," I repeat, dignified, sitting up on the couch and proceeding to pull the scrunchie from my hair. My hair flops down, smacking me in the eye and tickling my neck.

"Mmm, I like your hair," he practically moans, making my eyes snap to his as they roam about the length of my hair with a lusty gaze. He's a hair man, eh? That means he's a grabber...

"Oh, do you?" I question as I attempt to shake my hair back and forth like those girls in the movies do. Minus the slow motion, of course. However, being me, my movements are anything but sexy and I wind up getting an mouth full of hair...which I proceed to chew and choke on. _How does he resist me?_

_How?_

"Are you okay?" he snickers once I've fished the last strand of hair from my mouth.

"I'm fine," I say pouting. This is not going the way I envisioned it.

"You're even more beautiful than I remembered, you know that?" he says suddenly, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. A potent heat floods to my face and I blush, averting my eyes from the screen. Oh God, this man will kill me. "And you blush," he observes with a proud smile. His green eyes bore into mine, making my girly heart beat faster even just through a camera. Damn him.

I take in, for the first time, his grey CBGB's shirt and the unfamiliar cleanliness of his room. He cleaned up for me? Fucking sweetheart.

I bit my lip as he peruses the ugly green uniform shirt I'm wearing with the lovely 'Newton's Fast Food' logo of a greasy burger on it. A lovely 'Hi, my name is Bella' name-tag tops off the sexy ensemble.

"Bella," he says, just above a whisper. Just loud enough for me to hear him through the camera.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" I ask. It's only fair that I know his. Plus, it's ridiculous how much of a thrill I just got from hearing him speak my name. Mrs. Pussy has definitely awakened and is on full alert. The sleezebag.

"No, _Bella_, I'm not," he smirks, with a quick lick of his lips. His tongue. I mean it's only _a _tongue but it's _the _tongue. _His _tongue.

"Well, then," I fold my arms, "It's CowBell to you, sir." My name's off limits. If I can't yell out– er, _know _his name then he can't say mine. Hmph.

He sighs, glancing down before returning his eyes to me. "I'll tell you my name when you accept my friend request," he bargains.

No! "I'll accept the friend request when you tell me your name," I reply stubbornly.

"You're stubborn," he says as if making a note. "Strangely, I find it attractive."

I fucking blush again. "Charming me won't work, Mr. Skype," I roll my eyes.

"You are so cute."

"And you are so full of shit-ake mushrooms."

He laughs at me, slouching back in his chair. "What's your favorite food?"

Wait, what? "Huh?"

"Your favorite food, CowBell, what is it?"

Well, that's random. "Um...hot dogs?"

He points a finger to his chest. "Pizza," he informs, "Plain cheese."

I roll my eyes again because pizza is such a typical answer. "hotdogs are wayyyy better than pizza."

"Are you kidding me? Pizza is delicious and much more fulfilling than hotdogs," he sneers the word like it's a curse.

"Hotdogs can be just as fulfilling if not more fulfilling than pizza. Pizza is a big, greasy mess half the time."

"You just have to know where to get it from. Have you ever had Giordano's pizza?" he asks with a fond sigh.

"No," I reply. "Why is it like–"

"It's the most amazing pizza there ever was! I guess it's mostly exclusive to Chicago though. However, there's this restaurant ironically enough called Bella's that comes in a close second to Giordano's." Chicago? He's from Chicago. Great. He's practically all the way across the country from me.

"Chicago, huh? Surely, then, you've heard of Portillo's, the best hotdog place in the world! Their jumbo dogs are to die for." God, now I'm hungry and I want Portillo's. Their jumbo dogs are frickin huge. Mr. Tummy wants one… or two.

"Yes, they're okay. But they can be a mouthful. They're huge and sloppy," he says a bit disgustedly.

"That's the best part! I like the big, juicy, thick ones!" I yell excitedly.

It takes two seconds for me to realize what I just said and to whom I said it. Definitely a face-palm moment.

Mr. Skype shifts in his seat, his hand disappearing beneath the frame of the camera and he clears his throat shakily. "I didn't mean it like that..." I explain.

"Oh, I know." He licks his lips again.

"I'm such a dork," I snort at myself. An innuendo like ten minutes into the convo. Good going, Bella. Good going.

"A sexy one," Mr. Skype mumbles. But before I can even begin to respond, he speaks,

"Can I ask where you live?"

"California's finest," I say, gesturing to myself.

"Whoa. That's...that's kinda far away." He scratches the back of his neck, snatching his eyes away to focus on the computer mouse beside him.

"Yea."

For minutes we both just sorta sit there trying to do everything but look at the other. I think, for the first time tonight, we both realize what we're doing: talking to a complete stranger via Skype. Discussing hot dogs and pizza and thick, juicy, metaphorical body parts. It's pretty weird. It's the longest, most awkward silence in history and of course, he's the once to end it.

"Bella, I should...go. I've got some work to do..." he trails off.

"Right, yea. College boy?" I ask.

"No, no," he clarifies, "Some work for my job." He rustles around some papers on the desk and then holds up a stack to the camera. All I see is a bunch of lines and numbers and sketches. "Architect," he explains to my confused face. "Well, almost...I'm a sort of...intern. Just trying to keep up with the 'big boys'."

I nod, understanding. "That's cool. I'd never have the patience for that…" or the experience. Bella, the drop-out. Womp. Womp. Womp.

"Yea, it's pretty time consuming. I'd never have the tolerance to be a part of the fast food chain," he smiles, nodding to my shirt.

"Oh, I don't have the tolerance. It's a miracle I'm not fired."

"I'd never fire you. Even if you can't flip a burger to save your life, you're still good eye candy."

"Ha! Thanks, I think."

I grin at him and he grins back. Hmm, a comfortable awkwardness. A far away ringing interrupts the 'moment'. It takes a while before he realizes that it's his phone. "Shit!" he swears. "I'm sorry. Be right back!" he says before getting from his chair and disappearing off-screen. All I hear is the sound of his rushing around the room and the shrill of the phone before it suddenly stops and his voice reappears, low and hushed.

"Hello? Yes...okay. Yes, okay, I know..Uh huh, I was doing it just before you called, actually..Yes, sir.

Okay. I understand..I will..Alright. Bye." There's a light thunk as he tosses the phone somewhere.

"Fucking hell," he mumbles as he leans back into the frame, his hair fisted in one hand.

"I'm sorry. I have to go. I have to work."

"Oh! Right, sorry." Of course. _He _actually has a real job, Bella. "Goodnight," I reach to click out.

"Hey!" he starts. "Maybe...maybe same time tomorrow?" he asks hopefully.

He wants to talk to me again? Even knowing that I'm a burger flipping dork? "Uh...yeah. Sure."

His answering smile makes me want to do back flips. "Great. Sweet dreams, Bella."

Feeling a bit more confident, I blow him a playful kiss. "Goodnight, Mr. Skype."

He exits out of the program with an expression identical to mine. A huge smile on his face and his lip trapped between his teeth. Mr. Skype likes me.

Without a beat of uncertainty, I open up the page I'd stared at many times and clicked the bubble on the left.

**Confirm.**

_You are now friends with 'EDCullen'_

Only I want to be way more than just friends with him but, hey, we'll get there... Before I turn the computer off, it beeps loudly with a message that causes a smile to take over my face once more.

_Edward._

**A/N: SHE. ACCEPTED. THE. REQUEST. EEP! NO WAY! It's about fucking time, right? (Ya think?)**

**Also, can I get the award for best chapter endings? Cause I think I've had some good ones...just saying. (She has hopes, high ones.)**

**Uhm...I don't know when the next chapter will be but it won't be too far off, that's for sure (I'll remind her – noooo worries folks!). Keep the reviews coming, amigos. Oh and remember that no internet means I can't reply to reviews and I'm NOT ignoring you. Never. (Trust me, she talks too much and wouldn't pass up the chance. ;p)**

**Again, thanks to SOFisticated1 (*curtsies*) and to you guys (*claps*) because you are 'the driving force' and the 'linchpin' (*applauds your choice of wording*). Yes, I stole that from Taylor and Rob...problem? (Don't say no – it will hurt you…)**

'**Kay, bye now. (Ciao)**

**Question: What's your favorite food/restaurant? (Mines is: ITALIAN! Gargiulo's or L&B's - ****Spumoni Gardens – Google it!****)**

**~LazyMasochist Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	8. Playboy and Pizza

_****NOTE: **__This is SOFisticated1 updating for LazyElmo here! I tried, not very pushy-ish, to get her to post. Sorry. I failed. BUT low and behold, she did it. :)_

_You already know, I rock the parenthesis – only because Elmo wishes so. Warning: I do not beta her AN, much. So enjoy! Laters._

**A/N: **OH HELLO! Guess what? I have no internet! But...I do have a full collection of Beatles songs loaned to me by a very nice hippie soul sista. So this chapter was partially written while I was losing myself in the stoner-ific sounds of the Beatles! Like yay! (Love them)

Seriously, those guys must've been far gone like all the time (*singing* they were trying to record a song, but then they got high). Geezus.

SOFisticated1 is a saint. (ME? Ha! Churches have turned to ash just now) Bwahahaha. Hehe.

Anyways...back to the task, I'm sure she'll insert some random half-assed insult somewhere in here so to SOF I say, as always, FUUUUUUU! (Pah! You wish… I'm not having this discussion again, TYVM.)

To you guys, thanks for sticking with me. I passed the 100 reviews mark! Pretty frickin awesome (It is. Good job readers. Thanks for the feedback.) – no joke, I'm pissing mah (you're choice of spelling is atrocious)pants with excitement...Umm *facepalm*(pisser)

So, SOFisticated1 tried like twice to make me start writing and then she sorta gave up (*shrugs*) 'cause we were both having writers block (I like that word – were. Writer's Block can go suck balls. Big, BIG cojones). BUT I'm back…obviously. (She's rambling) I'm typing on my old, OLD computer. It's prehistoric and terrible. But I write better on here. I wrote the original one shot on this computer, so maybe it'll give me some creative juice (Nah, Redbull does that). Who knows? I'm babbling now so…I guess I'm done now. (Thank Gawd ;D)

Oh! I'm working on a groovy one-shot for you guys (thanks for the warning), so look out for that soon and…okay, bye for good now.

(Disclaimer?) Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own this sexiness and Newton's Fast Food. She can't take my grease-house from me. That rich bitch… (ya mouth!)

**Chapter 8: Playboy and Pizza **

Edward and Bella.

No, Bella and Edward.

Isabella and Edward?

Edward and Isabella?

No.

Edward and Bella.

Yea, that one. Did I say that one already? Whatever.

I wrote 'Edward and Bella' out in bright red bubble letters with the sharpie marker on the paper and attached the paper to a piece of tape before hanging it on the wall above my bed. Ridiculously teenager move, I know, but I was majorly crushing on Mr. Sk – Edward and I would like to wake up and see his name each morning. Creepy? I don't give a fuck.

I smiled at the paper before hopping off my bed and heading to the bathroom to change for work. As much as I'd like to stay at home and stare at my new poster, I have to go and fulfill my duty as Bella

Swan, the fry cook/cashier. Having a fast food job doesn't exactly allow you to be able to take long vacations. Mostly because: if you take a week off, you've just lost the majority of your paycheck. I mean, I guess Icould, considering my parents would love to throw money at their _little girl_ but ick, a moocher? I am not. So, I meander through my life flipping patties, ringing up sweaty bald guys and supersizing what shouldn't ever be supersized. I am to blame for peoples increasing waist-lines. You're welcome.

I slip on my green shirt and beige khaki's before clipping my nametag to my shirt with a fond smile as I remember Edward reading it and whispering my name for the first time. Gah! That man...

I put on no makeup considering it's a grease kitchen, not a runway and I'm out the door in less than ten minutes. Off to work. Oh, what a joy.

**xxSWSxx**

Let it be known that I, Bella Swan, am not a crazy psycho. Pfft, who am I kidding? I'm nuts. That statement was undeniable as I stared down at the words I'd drawn on my arm. _Edward and Bella_

_4ever_. Obviously my spelling skills needed some work.

I'd been far past giddy ever since I found out what Mr. Skype's real name was. And somewhere in the day, I'd found time to scribble that teenage babble on my arm. For the life of me I can't remember writing it. Must've been during one of my dirty daydreams…

I'd considered scrubbing it off but nah, I rather enjoyed the font I'd written in. Or at least, that was the excuse I was gonna stick to.

"Hi, welcome to Newton's, how can I help you?" Seth asks the usual chubby customer that comes in every Thursday and orders a—

"Cherry Coke, please."

Yea, that.

"And can I get a triple cheeseburger with extra cheese?"

"Can I get a heart attack with some salt on top?" I mock from my seat in the back room with a deep voice. Gosh, this is my favorite hobby during break. The things people order from this place should be illegal.

"Very well, sir. Would you like to super size for just a dollar more?"

"Oh, Seth! The million dollar question," I commentate, popping a gummy bear in my mouth and leaning forward with rapt interest.

"Is that the thing that comes with a big ole fry and a large drink?" the guy pants, licking his lips like he's hit the jackpot.

"Is that the thing that comes with 10 pounds and an extra chin?" I imitate, breathing heavily like him.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, I'll take that."

Of course you will. "You're all savages!" I yell, making Seth and the guy look my way.

"Bella, can you keep it down?" Seth asks.

To fuck with him, I toss another gummy in my mouth and smirk. "I'm on break, mothafucka! I don't work here right now!" Did I mention it's a wonder I'm not fired?

**xxSWSxx**

The smell of pizza assaults my nose as soon as I enter my apartment. _Hmm. What's up with that?_

I follow the smell over to the kitchen counter where I find a pizza box sitting with a note attached.

Emmett. He had sloppily written:

_Belly,_

_Rose and I went out for lunch at Luca's. Y'know, the pizza place? Anyway, she suggested we bring you something back. Unfortunately...I got hungry on the way home. Sorry –_

Opening the lid, I discovered that only three pieces were left in the box. One of which had a bite taken off of it. Oh, Emmett. How that guy isn't a bajillion pounds heavy is beyond me.

_...I left you what I could spare. A man's gotta eat, y'know? Hope your day was well. Love you._

_-Em._

_P.S. When I was dropping the pie off, your computer started beeping like crazy. Not that I peeked or anything but Mr. Skype really wanted to talk to you._

_Gasp!_ I hustled over to my laptop and flung it open. My Edward needed me! I opened up the Skype program and found a record four messages from him waiting. Four! I wasted no fucking time in opening them. The first was sent at 12:43pm.

_Cowbell, or should I say...BELLA_

_You'll be happy to know that I accomplished hardly any work last night due to the fact that you were on my mind 'til the early morn. While I wore a smile all day, my boss didn't hesitate to yell at me a bit. Or a lot... you busy?_

Oh, you've been on my mind too babe! But his fucker-boss upset him. No bueno! Ugh, he wasobviously bored and I was busy burning artificial meats.

The next message came about an hour later.

S_o, I'm sitting in a meeting right now. Lots of uptight corporate asses tossing around their money: requesting this detail and that detail. I'm bored out of my mind and the only thought that's keeping me semi happy is the thought that maybe, if I've been a good boy, I might be able to talk to you later. See what a cheesy ass I've become at your hands, CowBell?_

And half an hour later...

_So, I've just been told I'm gonna be designing the new Playboy penthouse. Apparently, Hugh wants a bigger and better mansion for them. Being a woman of impressive breast size yourself, I thought you might find this refreshing. Are you still on speaking terms with Hugh or…_

He's designing the Playboy penthouse… and he complimented my tits… and called me a Playboy bunny. I'm oddly flattered.

_Damn, I feel like I'm stalking you. You're probably out feeding the world's population and here I am spamming your inbox. My apologies. Whenever you get home, and are in the mood for some Edward,_

_I'll be waiting. What do you say to having dinner with me?_

Dinner? With him? Holy shit. Did he even have to ask? I clicked on the reply button and quickly typed him a response:

_I hope I'm not too late...I'd love to have dinner with you. Now?_

Before I go and get all dressed up, I want to at least know he'll be there. I park myself on the couch and tap my fingers against the mouse pad impatiently. I'll give him five minutes to reply. If he doesn't reply, then he's probably busy. I mean, it's not like I expect him to have been sitting by the computer waiting for me all day. That would be-

**BING!**

Yes, he was waiting!

_Bella! You're never too late. However, I should finish these blueprints before we chat. Otherwise I'll never get'em done. So... can we say maybe at five your time?_

Right… the time difference. It's five there now, while it was only three here. But I guess that's a plus. I get two hours to prepare myself for Sir Sexy.

_Okay. Five. But don't rush on my account. If you're busy, you're busy._

Lying through my teeth! I want him. Now. Like _right_ now. But he has a real job and I have to be patient.

_No worries. I'm almost done anyway. Five o'clock on the dot. What's for dinner, hon'?_

He called me hon... *THUD*

_Pizza... babe._

If he could give me pet-names then I could do the same to him right? Right.

_Pizza? The 'big greasy mess'? You hypocrite..._

I smile as I read his message. Yea, yea, I said it was greasy...never said it was gross.

_Yea, yea, yea...go work, you slacker. See you in a few._

He responds quickly with a brief message that signals this is the conversation's end.

_Looking forward to it. x_

He sent me an x...as in a kiss. It's official. Edward and Bella… 4ever!

4:45, I step out of the shower and dry myself quickly before slipping on my dark blue jeans and royal blue top that Emmett says makes me look _purty_.

4:50, I brush the shit out of my hair and then pull it back into a ponytail, leaving a few tendrils down to hang.

4:52, I put on my favorite chap stick then stare at my reflection. If I put on make-up then it'll make me seem all desperate. So, no makeup. Just chap-stick.

4:54, I pop my two slices of pizza in the microwave then pace back and forth in front of it.

4:55, I place my slices on my Dixie paper plate and sit them on the table.

4:56, I spend about 2 minutes, trying to adjust myself in a comfortable yet alluring position on the couch so that when it's time, I look relaxed yet irresistible.

4:59, I give up and wait for him to call me.

And at 5:00 exactly, his call pops up on my screen. _Perfect._ I click **Accept**.

He smiles when he sees me and sits up straighter in his chair. "You look gorgeous, Bella. I have a feeling this is going to be a great date."

I freeze as it dawns on me that, oh my God, this _is _a date. With Mr. Skype. Edward. Holy fuck.

Why did no one tell me this?

**A/N:** Oh, Bella... (SOF: ^*#%$&)

So guys, I am so so so so so so SO sorry that it took me so frickin long to get this to you. School, drama, boringness, fun, Twitter (YAY!), LIFE got in the way. Sorry, I've had this chap about halfway done for a month and couldn't bring myself to write (shit happens – deal with it :P). But here it is, finally.

I stole the phrase 'no bueno' from SOF. So blah, blah, blah. There ya go, some credit for you. (Hahaha, I don't want credit. BUT I would just like to say I, VERY much so, was all *gasps* "she used my shit?" But it's ok. Elmo can borrow it once in a blue. 'Cuz I'm nice to the little wench like that.)

The next chapter will be the date...y'know the one Bella didn't know she was on. Yea, that one.

Thanks for sticking with me through the time gap and for continuing to be 'the best in the world' and you're awesome 'cause 'I get so damn nostalgic.' Oops, sorry 'there are little ones in the audience'... Yea...stole those quotes from Kristen...anyway.

Reviewers get half a slice of pizza (*pops head in* did someone say pizza?). Emmett ate the other half (*hiss*). Sorry. _Man's gotta eat._

~LazyMasochist. Twitter: (at) ElmoStew


	9. Never Give a Man a Monster

**Note from SOFisticated1:** Hi readers! Sorry this took long. I received this chap about two weeks ago but RL aka FINALS exist. I won't keep you waiting anymore. Parentheses are _**mine**_. **THERE IS AN ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END OF THIS CHAP. LOOK FOR IT!** Laters.

**A/N: **I am the best procrastinator in the world, it's official. I've been trying to start this chapter for you guys for forever but each time I was like 'the computer's too far away, I'll do it the next time I get up'. Yes, I'm THAT lazy. Hence my penname. So sorry. I suck, I know. Blah, blah, blah.

In my defense, SOFisticated1 never reminded me. Smh, I would've done it but shame on her for not taking care of my responsibilities. :P (typical procrastinator looking for EXCUSES)

But really, you guys, I'm gonna shut up now. (Thank GOD!)

**Disclaimer: **Twilight isn't mine. Stop rubbing it in my face! Damn it… *pouts*

**Chapter 9: Never Give a Man a Monster**

"Bella?" Mr. Skype questions as I sit frozen in front of him. He waves a hand in front of the camera to catch my attention and I blink for the first time in what feels like forever. I glance down at my clothing. I'm wearing my 'great tits' shirt and I did shit to my hair and I applied a very generous amount of Chap Stick and we're meeting for dinner and I _just _realized this is a date? How much of an airhead can I be?

"Are you ok?" Mr. Skype tries again, his forehead pinched in concern.

"Yea, shit…Yea, dude, I'm fine," I stammer. I sigh, deciding to just be honest with him. "I didn't realize this was a date until just now."

"Oh," he chuckled a bit breathily. "I mean…it doesn't have to be if you don't-"

"No!" I yell like an overexcited Chihuahua. Fuck, now I've made him uncomfortable. "I mean, no, I want it to be just…let's start over, 'kay?" I give him my sweetest smile and he nods.

"Hey, Edward," I start, ever so cooly, "welcome to our date, good sir," I do a weird hand gesture thing like I'm showcasing something and it has its intended effect—it makes him laugh. Thank God for my awkwardness. I grin triumphantly.

"Why, thank you, madam," he plays along. "And how are you this fine evening?" he juts his chin up and picks up his can of Monster and sips gently, pinky high in the air.

I laugh. "I am quite _swell_," I inform; my accent going into a terrible English impersonation. "And yourself, squire?"

"Squire?" he laughs outright, his green eyes bright and cheery. "You're amazing," he compliments causing my traitorous cheeks to redden.

"Oh, stop," I fan, feigning nonchalance and picking at a loose thread on my blouse.

"You are," he says seriously making my eyes meet his finally. It's silent for a moment, but, being me, I break it first.

"Thank you. Now, what kind of pizza do you currently possess, squire?"

"The pizza of the Gods, of course!" he exclaims and I start to think that maybe this guy can keep up with my weirdness—if not beat me in the art himself. "Giordano's! Sausage…deep dish…cheesy, deliciousness." He slowly elevates the pizza inch by inch as he talks until its right in the camera, alluringly greasy and cheesy and totally mouthwatering. In the _there goes ten pounds to my ass_ kind of way. I lick my lips instinctually. "Oh, what was that, Bella?" he asks teasingly. "Did you just lick your lips? You want my pizza, don't you?"

I shake my head all the while my brain shouts, 'figure out a way to jump through the screen, grab the pizza and stuff your face'.

"I think you do. I think the grease is just calling to you," he taunts, waving the pizza in front of the camera and for a second, I feel like I can smell it. I'd actually like a minute alone with the pizza. I imagine me and him could be great friends. I'm not _that _kinky but I'd gladly have an orgy with that pizza and a few slices of his friends.

Mr. Skype brings the slice to his mouth and takes a huge bite, moaning all the while and for a minute, I can't decide whether to focus on the pizza or his moan. His moan, Bella. Focus on the moan.

"That's good pizza," he sighs happily, his lips sporting a new shine thanks to the grease.

"Humph, whatever," I say petulantly, taking a big bite of my own pizza now and hating the way Emilio's pizza now tasted like cardboard in comparison to the thick slice that was halfway across the states from me. Regardless, I put on the performance of my career.

"Mmm, yum, now this is delicious." I roll my eyes back like the slice was positively orgasmic and I make little humming noises as I chew. In reality, I kind of want to spit it out under my couch cushion.

"Guess who's not winning an Oscar this year," he jests, pretending to open a results envelope. "Bella!" he laughs with a raised and challenging brow as he calls me out on my bullshit.

"Shut up!" I toss a napkin at the camera and fight back a laugh as I fold my arms. He pouts, the corners of his mouth still turned up and it's the cutest thing since Emmett's potty dance and I can't help myself —I grin at him. "I shall forgive you if you promise to make sure that some way, somehow, I'll get to taste that pizza one day," I bargain.

He wipes at his mouth with a napkin and nods. "Agreed."

I take a sip from my bottle of water on the table, shaking my head at this date. It's the goofiest one I've ever experience. It's amazing. _He's _amazing. "Water?" he questions me as I swallow.

I nod. "A Monster?" I asked, nodding to the tall, green can on his desk. Never figured him for an energy drink kind of guy.

He shrugs guiltily. "I've been working crazy hours trying to do the design. I need the boost. I had my first one yesterday and, my God, I was bouncing off the walls."

I smiled. "A grown man who can't handle his caffeine is a sad thing to see," I shake my head in faux pity. "I can so hold my caffeine, but these things are strong!" he defends.

"Right, right…" I tease with a smirk.

He raises a brow and puffs out his chest before grabbing the can and downing it. "What. A. Rebel," I gape teasingly. "Risking hyperness like that…you're my hero," I hold a hand to my chest and melodramatically throw a hand to my forehead like the cheesy girls in movies.

He just grins at me. "You just watch. I'm gonna be the calmest person ever. I can handle my caffeine.

You just watch me, CowBell!"

**xxSWSxx**

"Oh come on!" Edward yells as his paper bounces off the rim of the trash can and skids to the floor.

The Monster energy drink he drank kicked in about 30 minutes after he drank it and now, an hour later, it's still working. A lesson learned: Mr. Skype on sugar is like Mr. Skype on bourbon.

I need to read the ingredients on a can of Monster because seriously he like me when I'm drunk right now but he's only consumed tons of sugar.

I laugh as his face slips into a pout for the umpteenth because he can't seem to make very many shots.

We've been playing paper toss for about half an hour and Mr. Skype sucks at it. I suck at it too but the sugars got him jittery and therefore twitchy so I'm winning. Energy drinks, kids, stay away from Em'.

I roll up a piece of paper and turn around on the couch before aiming at the trash that's like 4 ft away.

My paper lands on the rim and rolls around it for a second, teasing me, before finally falling into the halfway full can.

"Yes!" I cheer as Edward groans.

"I suck! But I play this game all the time and kick my roommate's ass! You're cheating!"

He bounces in his chair, pointing at me accusingly.

"Nuh-uh! I'm just better at this! Admit it; you're getting beat by a girl!" I do a small victory dance.

He smiles. "I'll never admit it but I know when to quit so I'm surrendering from this game but next time," he exclaims, a finer coming right at the camera as he proclaims, "next time I will win this game and become the champion!" He flexes arms, kissing his muscles and cheering himself on.

I laugh loudly. "I love how well you handle your caffeine, Mr. Skype."

He grins proudly, completely oblivious to that fact that I'm speaking sarcastically. "You like that? That's allll man, babe," he rubs his stomach and gives me a wink and a crooked, lazy smile that resembles Emmett after he's consumed a plate of wings.

"So manly. Very, very manly."

"I'm amazing, I know," he jokes with a laugh. My gosh, I'm loving him right now. I need to get him hyper more often. But even when he's not loopy on sugar, he's quick on his toes and completely in tune with my sarcasm. I used to think no one was a match for my eccentricity and downright awkwardness but this guy can both rival me and tame me. Remarkable. Really, anyone who can shut me up is remarkable; it's not an easy task.

"You're simply the best," I say, quoting Cher.

"Was that a Cher reference?" he asks, an adorable look of confusion crossing his face.

"Indeed it was, sir," I nod, covering my face as a huge, unattractive yawn takes over it.

"Jesus," I sigh, wiping at my eyes as they water from the breadth of the yawn.

"Are you sleepy?" Mr. Skype asked, concernedly before a yawn of his own comes, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

I chuckle and shake my head. "I'm okay. Are _you _sleepy?"

"A bit. No big deal."

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" I ask and he sighs heavily because he sees where this is going. It's a bit after seven here which means it's after nine in Chicago.

"Yes, I do. But-"

"You should get some sleep. I imagine you had to wake up really early this morning for work and you probably have to do the same tomorrow." Listen to me sounding all motherly and responsible. I'd spend the rest of the night eating peanut butter and popcorn until I doze off at about midnight only to wake up 7 hours later for my _own _job. He didn't need to know that though.

"Bellaaaa," he whines.

"Edwardddddd," I mock back. "You'll see me tomorrow," I promise.

"You mean it?" he asks, giddily.

"I promise." I make a 'crossing my heart' motion and smile at him.

"Okay, okay then…" he agrees. "I really had a great time."

"Me too," I grin. "Definitely my favorite date," I admit, biting my lip to hold back another grin.

His face light up at my admission. "For me too, Bella. An unforgettable night with an unforgettable woman."

"Oh, Mr. Skype, you're cheesier than your pizza. I love it."

"I aim to please, CowBell."

"And please, you do."

"So, I'll talk to you tomorrow?" he asks awkwardly when he finds nothing else to say.

I salute him. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodbye, Mr. Skype."

"I'll never tire of hearing you call me that. Goodbye, CowBell."

To distract from the goofy grin on my face I make a heart with my fingers and hold it up to Mr. Skype's beaming face before exiting out of the program.

I toss my plate of uneaten pizza in the refrigerator, slip into my fluffy pajamas, tie my hair and brush my teeth in a daze, a stupid and frankly creepy smile plastered on my face the whole time. By the time I climb into bed, I'm positive my face is stuck like that. I should be worried. I should be only phone with a plastic surgeon or massaging my face muscles but no, the smile, however creepy it may be, is welcome on my face. Because it's the subtle memory I have of Mr. Skype. The past two hours have been phenomenal. The man can keep up with me and is the cutest hyper person I've ever seen. He's too good to be true.

So, I keep that goofy smile on my face until I doze off because that silly grin is my proof that Mr. Skype is completely real. And when I doze off, my dreams are filled with green eyes, greasy foods and large cans of Monster.

**A/N: **So…their first date….how was it? (SAPPY) I mean, if you ask me, it was pretty spiffy but then again I wrote it so I'm probably bias.

I got sleepy around the same time Bella (Ditto *yawns*) did so I'm gonna try and turn in now. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I read them all and osh-posh-bigosh you guys make me smile like a psycho. Thanks for your continued support and keep it up please…err…I posted a new fic called Wake Me Up (It's a weird, horror-ish fic, amazing…) so go and take a looksie at that if you'd like and...hmm…I think that's it.

Question: What're you like when you're hyper? (annoying) Or better yet, has anyone ever had a Monster? (Yes, and it's yummy)

I never touch energy drinks but my um…buddy 'Hernandez' (PMSL! aka BOY TOY) is addicted to Monster and he goes crazy like Edward. It's quite entertaining. (she just got all dreamy – don't be fooled)

Next chapter, coming sooner than later and yea bye. *awkwardo*

Reviewers get a hyper Edward on their doorstep Christmas day. (awaits package)

**~LazyMasochist (Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**

*****ANNOUNCEMENT: **SWS is up for Fic Rec of the week. (at) PeacockStew was amazing enough (you sneaky lil vixen) to rec it so go VOTE SWS! It's at the right hand side. Click Skyping With Strangers then VOTE.

**www(dot)tehlemonadestand(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

You readers, fav adders and alert bugs rock Lazy's fic world. Make her a happy camper. Spanx!** -SOF**


	10. This Is Borderline Masturbation

**Note from SOFisticated1:** This biatch needs to get internet… my own fics are slacking from her slaving me around like a drunken whore. *pssttt* She's now to be called LazyWanker, bwahahaa… I'm a bit tips but that makes for great jokes in the parentheses…they're MINE.

**A/N: It's Christmas Break for this chick! I'm gonna try and pre-write my ass off for you guys, aight? I did say try though…I'm writing this on Christmas so HAPPY BELATED CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR, YA'LL!**

**As you probably know I was in the Lemonade Stand fic of the week running last week…I didn't win. BUT I got some new readers so hi! And plus it was amazing to be recognized for anything anyway. Thanks to PeacockStew **(Wasssup Homie? ;P)** for nominating me. It was an amazing feeling. You rock, hard. **(Entz, Entz, Entz)** Thanks to all and anyone who voted for little ole me. Give yourselves well deserved props, my friends.**

**I'm getting to the point in this story where I majorly start overanalyzing the simplest things. For instance, I'm dying because I fear this story won't have many chapters. I'd die if I didn't hit the 20 chapter mark. It just can't go down that way.…**

**Just…just read the chapter. I'll be over here biting my nails off **(disgusting!)**. **

(Disclaimer:?)**Stephenie Meyer doesn't own Twilight. She stole the idea from me about 7 years ago…Just kidding, but believable, no? **(ROFL)

**Chapter Ten: This Is Borderline Masturbation**

"Do you have a dictionary?" I ask the waitress as she passes our table. "I want to look up the word _Disaster_ and see if there's a picture of this in there." I circle the rim of my glass with a finger before passing a glance between Emmett and Rosabitch.

"Aw, come on, Belly, don't be like that," Emmett interjects. "Nevermind," he says to the confused waitress as she stares at us before scurrying away. "This could be a good thing."

I roll my eyes at his foolish optimism. We're sitting in a booth at Emilio's. The three of us. Together. He's even placed me across from Rosabitch. I'm refraining from kicking the bitch in her shins and bolting out of the place.

"Bella, how was your night last night?" Emmett asks, trying to stir up a conversation.

"As if I'm going to discuss the most awesome night of my life with _her _around," I sneer bitchily with a quick glare in Rosalie's direction. She crinkles up her eyes and scoffs at me before going back to tapping her nails on the table. To be honest, I'm not even pissed at Rosalie—well, no more than usual—I'm actually a bit cross with Emmett. It's Sunday. This is our drunk night. It's been _our_ drunk night since forever! And he brought Rosabitch to _our_ drunk night!

"Bella, please, for me, just…let's have dinner? A normal dinner. Try, for one night, to not hate each other," he pleads looking back and forth between Rosab—_Rosali_e and I. God damn, he gives me those puppy-dog eyes and I cave. Everytime.

I glance at Rosalie and her eyes are focused on his pouting lips, her eyes softening with every second that passes. We've both caved. She passes me a look that says 'only for Emmett, bitch' and we nod in a silent agreement.

"So, Rosalie, where'd you get your…" I look her up and down. She wearing expensive diamond studs, a low cut burgundy top and has her hair strategically thrown over her shoulder. I'm looking for something to compliment. I find nothing I like but— "…boobs?" I finish as my eyes land on her chimichangas. "They're nice." _And hard to miss_, I add mentally. I plaster a friendly smile on my face as I regard her.

Her eyes narrow minutely before widening again as she clears her throat. "I got them from my mom," she retorts.

"Oh, so she's a plastic surgeon?"

"No-"

"Then, they were a gift?"

"That's not what I meant! They're mine!"

"You're awful defensive…" I take a sip from my glass.

"They're mine!" she growls, leaning across the table at me.

"Okay! My God, I was just trying to pay a compliment…" I shrug and pick at the slice of pizza before me, twirling the cheese around my thumb. "Calm _your _tits," I smirk, chewing. Emmett kicks me under the table. "Ow! Dude, I really was trying but once she gets all riled up, it's so fun to continue! I'll stop," I promise him. "I'll stop."

Emmett runs his hands through his curly brown head and turns to Rosalie. "Rose, why don't you tell Bella about-"

"Actually, Emmett, if you don't mind, I wanna know about how you guys met?" I ask hesitantly and seriously, sliding my pizza plate away as I regard the couple. Blech, _couple._

"Oh," he says looking to her. "Rose?"

She stares at the table before meeting my eyes and taking a deep breath. "It was at the post office," she starts, pursing her bright red lips. "I was mailing a gift to my great aunt and Em was there…checking his mail, right babe?" _Em. Babe. _Ick, ick. Ick! She puts a manicured hand on his arm as she lets him take over and her bitchy shield sort of falls and she looks all tame and tender.

Can I have a bucket? I'm gonna upchuck _reallll _soon.

"Yeah. I turned around pretty quickly and knocked right into her. She started swearing and yelling at me, her arms flailing. Kinda like you when you get flustered, Bell," he adds with a lopsided grin. I raise my brows and give him a gritted teeth smile. _Did he just compare me to…hells naw. _"Anyway, I picked up the stamps and receipt she'd dropped and handed it to her-"

"And then you just stood there grinning at me," Rosalie adds with a fond smile at my friend. Yucky yuckers. "And then you were like 'I'm an astronaut—"

I knew then what he'd said next. My eyes bugged at Emmett and I burst out laughing. He didn't…

Months ago, me and Emmett had checked out a book from the library entitled '100 Greatest Pick Up Lines'. And the astronaut one was out favorite. Mostly because it was filthy…

"Emmett, you did not use the astronaut one!" I yell at him, chuckling.

"I did," he grins shamelessly. "It's a classic!"

"You know it?" Rosalie asks me, still smiling.

I nod and clear my throat. "Hi, I'm an astronaut and my next mission is to explore Uranus!" I recite with a snort of laughter. We all bust out into loud laughter that makes half the restaurant look in our direction.

"Yeah," Rosalie nods, swiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "That one. So, I socked him in his gut, laughing all the while. Next thing I know, well…he's _socking it to me _in the back of his Hummer," she laughs. _Classy._

"Sock it to me! Sock it to me!" I yell and for some reason that's the funniest thing any of us has ever heard because we're all laughing uncontrollably again. I glance at Rosalie through tear clouded eyes and she gasps for air and looks back and we share another nod. But this time, we're wearing smiles.

Fine. She can date my friend.

But she's still Rosabitch.

**xxSWSxx**

"My monster man!" I grin as Mr. Skype appears on my computer screen.

"Hot dog babe!" he retorts with a smile identical to mine.

"The one and only. How was your day?" I ask as I begin to pull my hair up into a ponytail, liking how easily I'm communicating with him now.

He blows a raspberry and cracks his knuckles. "That bad, huh?" I ask worried. I pull the laptop on my lap and scoot back on the couch.

"No, no…I guess it wasn't that bad. Just…they didn't really like the designs I had. They told me I have three days to make the changes they want me to make to it or they're going to another agency. If I lose this account, _The Playboy Account_, my internship, no—my _entire career _as an architect will be screwed."

"That's terrible. What don't they like? I mean, what kind of amendments do they want you to make? Not simple ones, I'm guessing."

"No, they want a fucking five story building shaped like the Playboy Bunny. Not to mention they practically want a pool on every surface plus a lot of other shit that takes a lot of calculations to complete. I'll be up day and night for the next few days to finish it." He yanks at his hair. "Sorry for swearing," he says quickly once he's realized it.

"Dude, no, it's totally fine. If you want to go and work, I _completely _understand-"

"No, please. Not yet. You calm me," he offers with a sheepish smile that tells me he's fully aware of how cheesy his admission was.

"Okay, then. If you're sure," I smile. _I'm calming. My insides are happily conga dancing in celebration._

"I'm sure. In fact," he stands and then his t-shirt is all I can see as he fumbles with cords on his laptop. He stands back and lifts the computer from the desk, smiling into the camera. "Dance with me?" he dips below the frame as he bows.

I laugh—loudly and stand, slipping on my slippers and picking up my computer. "I'd love to."

His crooked grin moves in closer and he begins to sway with his computer. "One sec," he carries me with him as he walks over to a corner of his room and rattles with his IPod dock. "This is our song now," he says as a song begins to play.

_Shot in the dark_

_I'll wait for your dull, gold, heart_

_I'll wait_

The soft song begins to play and I smile at the words. "How apropos, Skype boy," I comment sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…I'm a regular Casa Nova—ow!" he exclaimed, wincing.

"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned.

"You stepped on my foot," he grins and I can't help but grin back at him.

"I beg to differ. I am quite the dancer," I defend, swaying to show him, only to knock into my couch and nearly break my neck.

"Oh, yeah, I can tell," he snickers.

"Just dance," I grumble. He just smiles and moves back and forth with me.

"I like your perfume," he comments, keeping up the 'here with me now' façade.

Another smile takes over my face as I play along. "Oh, yeah?"

He nods. "Mmhmm. What scent is that?" He inhales and I briefly close my eyes, pretending his nose is at my neck.

"Strawberry."

"Strawberry," he repeats to himself.

"Hey, hey!" I try.

"Hmm?"

"Watch those hands, mister. Above the waist!" I give him a stern look and he laughs, his eyes lighting up.

"My apologies," he offers. "I couldn't help myself. Your ass was calling to me."

"Ay, ay, ay," I exclaim, my head pressed to my forehead in false upset. "Men nowadays with their wandering hands." I shake my head at him.

"What are my hands doing now?" he asks, mirth still evident in his eyes.

"They're veering dangerously close to the danger zone _but _I think the owner of the ass might let a grope or two slide."

"Oh, I see. So, then, with this lovely offer at hand, what do I do with myself?"

I bite my lip to hold back a huge smile. "This is borderline masturbation!"

"Oh, what a chicken!" he taunts with a cluck. I narrow my eyes at him and continue.

"You totally grab my ass, of course. I contemplate stopping you but who am I kidding? It feels good."

_I've got all you're waiting for_

_I've got all you need_

He wets his lips. "And then?"

"And then I find it only fair that I grab your ass in return…for reciprocal purposes, of course," I explain. "Nice ass," I add with a teasing wink.

"Ditto," he says much more seriously and he watches me in silence for a moment, all signs of joking void from his face and damn it, I know what he's thinking.

"I wish this were real," I voice first.

"Me too," he agrees solemnly.

"My feet hurt," I complain, trying to lighten the mood here.

"_Your _feet? You've been stepping on mine for the entire dance," he smiles, playing along. "Come on, let's sit down. I'll lead you to your chaise, my sweet."

I giggle and walk back to my couch, plopping down. "Only for you, Mr. Skype, would I be such a girl."

"I'm honored, truly honored," he holds a hand to his chest.

"You better be!" I joke as my phone starts to ring. _It's getting hot in here! _Nelly yells Emmett's ringtone at me. "Sorry," I say to Edward, "one sec."

He nods and motions for me to answer it. "Hello?" I say.

"Bella Wella! Get your ass decent, I'm on my way over with a big ass pack of beer, we're getting shitfaced!" he cheers.

"What? I thought…you counted the time with Rosalie as our Shitfaced Time," I say, confused but a bit giddy.

"No way, Jose Rodriguez, I would never. That's our time! I'd never ditch time with my favorite girl."

"Oh my God, you big fucker, you're gonna make me cry," I feign sniffling. "Where are you?"

"Just passing Becker Street," he says and I can hear Kings of Leon playing in the background.

"Okay, let me go make myself pretty," I tell him.

"Very well. Good luck with that."

"Eff you, pretty boy," I sneer sarcastically.

"Bye, boo."

"Take care of you, Pooh." I hang up with a laugh.

"Hot date?" Mr. Skype asks with a fake pout.

I roll my eyes. "Shut up, I was talking with my…what is it kids say these days? My…bestie?"

"Oh, I see. I suppose that's my cue to bug off, huh?"

"No!" I object. "Don't take it like that-"

"I'm kidding. I should get to work but…thank you for the dance, CowBell."

I smile at him, "Anytime."

"Don't forget our song."

"Shot in the daaaark," I sing in a terrible impersonation of the singers' voice. He laughs and nods at me.

"Until next time, Frycook."

I salute him. "Until next time, Architect." We're both grinning as we simultaneously click out.

No shame in my game, the minute I log off, I Google the hell out of those lyrics and find the song.

Amazon-dot-com gets it downloaded and by the time Emmett arrives I'm yelling the words at the top of my lungs.

"What the heck's going on here?"

"I have a song, mofo, now crack open the Heineken!"

**A/N: Hey, ya'll. This was started on Christmas and finished on New Year's Eve. Pattern? Clearly,**

**I have no grasp on the concept of resting on holidays. (She rest even on non-holidays, don't let her FOOL you! Helllooo, Lazy)**

**Props: I admittedly first saw the astronaut line in Evading Edward by VampiresHaveLaws.**

**Great fic. Cool stuff. That line cracks me up.**

**Anyway, Edward and Bella's song is Dull, Gold Heart by Band of Skulls. If you're super Twilight savvy (*points to self*), you'll know that Band of Skulls sang the song Friends on the New Moon soundtrack. Just a little fun fact there.**

**I actually postponed the writing of this chapter to find them a song and I searched my phone and this was one of my first choices. It's a really cool song. You should go and check that out.**

**Be sure to review and check out my other story Wake Me Up. I'm really getting into writing that thing and it's growing on me. (It's updating again! Gimme like 3days – I has a LIFE)**

**Question: What's the best/worst pick up line you've ever heard? ('Do your feet hurt? Because you've been running through my mind ALLL DAY!' Yes, that one AND 'Are you an angel? Cuz the sight of you stopped my heart.' ROFL… LOSERS.)**

**AND BONUS QUESTION: Does anyone else not get why Flightless Bird, American Mouth is the real Edward and Bella's song? Hmm (*drunkly sings* **Have I found yooouuuu? Flightless biiirrrdddd, jealooouuusss, weeeeepinnngggg…or lost yooouuuu? American mouth….Big pill looooommming…. READY?...NOW I'm A FAT HOUSE CAT….PISSING ON MAGAZINE'S! *LOL* I don't get it either but sshhhh…**)**

**HAPPY NEW YEARS. FELIZ ANO NUEVO! (*throws confetti* and Happy Three Kings Day/Little Christmas *fist pumpage*)**

**~LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: (at)ElmoStew**


	11. I Do Believe in Handjobs, I Do, I Swear!

**A/N: Hey guys, I take so fucking long to update, I know. But anyways, here I am and yea, I have no idea where this chapter is going but hopefully it goes somewhere enjoyable. **

**Before we go on, I have to say I GOT MY INTERNET BACK! That means there will probably be fster updates BUT it also means that there will be no more notes from Crazy Sof up here. I'm more than a little bummed about that. :( Those notes, to me, made the chapter a hell of a lot more enjoyable. But, alas... *sigh* **

**BUT**

**I'm babbling as always so I'll just shut up and let you guys go ahead and enjoy the new chapter. I promise I'll write another one within the next few days. **

**On with Frycook and Architect….**

**Chapter 11: I Do Believe In Handjobs, I Do, I Swear!**

It's Monday and we all know what that means! Yes, yet again it is time for me to return to the hell hole deemed an eatery. I was almost beginning to miss the smell of burnt patties and grease.

_Pffffft._ I clutched at my side as I bent over laughing at that because really, that was too much funny. After wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I continued on with my routine of getting ready, making sure my pits were slathered with the lovely scent of lady Dove. Mmm, lady Dove.

"Shot in the dark," I sang quietly to myself as I threw shit in my little Spongebob book bag. I was due somewhere after work and I needed something to put my shit in so I wouldn't have to lug it around with my bare hands, you see. And so I didn't have to come back here after my shift at Newton's SmellTacular Stink Shack.

I snickered again_. Stink Shack_. I slay myself.

**SWS~Later on at the Stink Shack~SWS**

"Bella, do you think you can move a little faster back there!" Seth yelled to me. In response, I rolled my eyes and turned up the volume on my Ipod as I continued to leisurely and carefully place the strips of lettuce on the burger.

God, I hate working the grill.

"Bella!" the fucker yelled right beside me and I jumped and completely dropped my greasy masterpiece on the floor.

"The fuuuuck, man!" I screeched at him. "It took me ten minutes to make my name out of lettuce strips on that thing!" I was pissed. With a capital p and numerous s's.

"Exactly! You've kept the customer waiting for it for ten minutes!" he screamed back at me.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I said, fanning my hands at him and looking around his body several times. "I don't see em," I said to myself. "What'd you do use a new fertilizer?" I questioned him with a stroke of my chin.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You grew balls, my friend!" I said loudly and with a grin. The watch on my wrist started to beep, signaling that it was five o'clock. "Oh well, time to go, glad we had this talk!" I clapped him on the shoulder before grabbing my backpack and punching out then skipping from behind the counter. To the chubby man waiting on the side I said, "It's gonna be a while. They keep fucking around in the kitchen."

I shook my head like it was a shame and patted the big chum on his arm. "Hang in there, buddy."

**SWS~Back at the Bat-Cave~SWS**

"Ugh!" I groaned as I busted through the door of my apartment and threw all the bags to the ground. I closed the door and giddily attacked all my purchases, dumping them on the floor like a little kid. "Eep!"

I lined all the items up by each other. A globe, which really I should have owned prior, a map, which I really didn't need since I had the globe but it was purple and I couldn't resist, a Band of Skulls CD, which I had to have because well…I had to and then there was the bag of chicken wings I'd stopped to get. Om nom nom.

I looked at the clock and saw it was a quarter to eight. Ten in Chicago…I wondered if he'd be calling or if he'd already called. Shit.

I made my way to the computer, opening up Skype and checking for missed calls and/or messages from him and there was…nothing.

"Hmm," I squeaked, slinking down by the couch. "What's up with that?" I scratched my belly as I sat the computer down and went to put on the CD and prepare my plate. I was sorta in robot mode as I did my actions, seeing as how my brain was busy contemplating my sitch. Situation, that is.

No calls, no messages and it's ten o'clock. I mean, he could just be doing that thing where he waits for me to call him first. Yea, that's definitely a possibility. _Or_, the mean and bitchy, doubtful voice in the back of my head started, _maybe he's just ignoring you. _

That voice was much too bitter. She needs to get laid by an equally bitchy male voice and maybe—

"She'll fuck off with her negativity!" I yelled outloud in my apartment to which the voice responded, _Craaaazy bitch_. Then she hobbled off to bother someone else. I licked the sauce from my fingers victoriously, ignoring the fact that she was probably right.

Some groovy song started playing in the background and got my attention enough to make me wanna dance. So, I did. Very off beat and lamely but you know, I did it anyway. I glanced at the back of the CD to check for the title. Hollywood Bowl, eh? Weird ass title but whateves.

_I found my baby waiting after the show_

_He was wasted and he wouldn't let go_

_And I said, 'you can have my kisses but get your hands off my dough'_

_I found my baby waiting after the show_

"I wish Edward were waiting after the show. He could touch all my dough," I said to Mr. Wing before I ate him. "Ugh!" I yelled, infuriated and I charged over to my computer and with my sticky fingers, I called Mr. Skype. "I demand to know why you haven't—no, that's bitchy," I mumbled to myself as I tried to think of a way to initiate the issue we had here. You know, the one where I hadn't talked to him in like twenty hours. That sounds needy. Am I needy? I'm needy—

"Bella?" called the architect from his magical moving picture screen.

"Hiiii," I waved awkwardly at him, wondering if I had sauce on my face. "I was just wondering what you were up to."

"You have, um…" he pointed to my face, lips tight together as he tried not to laugh at me. Shiiit. I wiped my sleeve across my face and started down at the giant stain it created. "Did any of the sauce actually make its way _into_ your mouth?" he snickered.

"Smartass," I glared. "Why haven't you called me?" I pouted.

"The designs," he explains, "plus I don't know your schedule at work and I never know when to call. I've been holed up like a hermit all day drawing." A tug to his hair lets me know he's uber stressed and completely doesn't need my needy ass behavior right now.

"You can tell me to fuck off, you know," I say honestly. "I mean, if you say it I'll be a bit upset at first but then I'll get over it. Point is, if you need to work, you need to work and seriously I'll understand. So, this is your Get Out Of Jail Free Card or…your Get Bella To Fuck Off Card or…whatever. Tell me to fuck off and I will is the…general…point of this…"

"You will?" he asks and damn if I'm not a bit insulted that he actually wants me to bug off.

"Um…I will. Yea." I fiddle with my hands.

"Okay, then. Fuck off," he smirks as he tells me and my jaw drops at his audacity. Damn, am I that annoying? I'll ask Em…but then again he's annoying too. I need more friends.

"Okay, Edward," I say all wounded puppy and he laughs at me as I reached to exit out. And at that point I'm like 'who slipped rude ass into his java this morning?'.

"Bella," he starts, stopping me from leaving. "I was under the impression that if I told you to fuck off, you would."

I narrow my eyes and cock my head. "The fuck? I was about to!"

"No, you were leaving," he says with that same smirk that says _Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha mockity mock mock. _

"Edward, you're sorta pissing me off. What the frick are you playing at?"

Then he leans into the camera and speaks directly to the mic. "Fuck. Off."

And then the way he says it mixed with the way his green eyes are a bit darker makes the flipping switch in my brain go off and a blush travels over my face. Fuck off…he means…

"Oh my God," I murmur to myself at his suggestion. That would be hot, no that'd be hotter than hot…jeebus.

"Bella," he says a bit quieter. "I'm sorry if I…If you don't like…If you don't believe in…Don't do…" he stutters and I shake my head at him so furiously, I get dizzy.

"I do believe in hand jobs! I do, I swear!" And then two seconds after that I slap a hand to my face in embarrassment as he throws his head back in laughter. I need to purchase a filter that'll keep me from yelling out any ole shit that comes to mind. Cause right then, I sounded like the X rated version of the cowardly lion_. I do believe in spooks, I do, I do, I do!_

I would've chuckled at my quote if Mr. Skype weren't still laughing his tush off at me. But he was. So, I sat there and waited for him to finish with a bored look on my face that showed his behavior was frowned upon.

"Woooooo," he gasps out, winded as his laughter comes to and end. He wipes the corners of his eyes and then slams his palms on the table, tiredly. "Only you can make me laugh like that after the day I've had." I almost crack a smile at him. Almost. "Oh, come on, don't be mad at me, Bella." I persist. "Bells," he questions as if checking out a new nickname and again I almost smile at him. Only Emmett and my dad call me that, though I could get used to the sentiment rolling off his tongue. "Bellsabub?" I make a choking noise and stink my tongue out at him. "Cowbell, come on," he laughs.

"Are you finished laughing at me?" I ask with an arched brow.

"Bellaaaaa," he groaned, smiling at me all boyishly and charmingly. "Forgive me?" He gives a pout of his own and I cave, smiling.

"Fine, fine!" He grins at me and I can't help but smile back.

"You're listening to Band of Skulls?" he asks as he listens to the music play in the background. "Feeling sentimental?" he waggles his brows.

"Shut up. I liked our song so…I bought the CD. You're into this music?"

"Yea, I saw them play last year with a friend and I got hooked. They're cool. Listen to track six," he suggests. "That's my favorite."

I pick the CD case up and look up track seven. "Uh…Fires? That one?"

"Yea, that one." He smiled fondly, thinking of it.

"I'm on track eleven. I must've missed it while I was stuffing my face with wings." To his chuckle, I responded, "Why is it your favorite?"

"It's…just…a cool song and I feel like…it connects," he laughs. "That was cheesy."

"A bit," I admitted. And then out of fucking no where, "Do you believe in long distance relationships?" Why. The Fuck. Did. I. Say. That? He hasn't even declared himself my boyfriend and I'm over here questioning the conditions of out relationship. If a couple Skype's can be considered a relationships. I face palm myself for being such a douchnozzle. But, Mr. Skype only pauses a moment before answering my ill planned inquiry.

"If it's between the right people, with the right amount of trust." And then, "Do you trust me?"

"Are you saying we're the right people?" I counter.

"I'm saying we're the right people," he affirms.

"We're the right people. I trust you. Do you trust me?" I ask robotically as I chant in my head 'this is happening! This is happening!'.

"I trust you, Cowbell. Be my girlfriend?" THUD.

I almost die right then. But, as always_, almost_. "Be my boyfriend?" I ask, wanting his answer first.

"Yes, Bella, I would love to be," he smiles at me as he says the words. "Now, will you be my girlfriend already?"

"Can I hang up and go squee like a girl once I say yes?"

He grins at me again as I confirm but don't confirm. "Yes."

"Okay. Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend." And then for a second I do die as my heart stops with the words. "I have to go freak out now."

Another laugh and a killer crooked grin from my…boyfriend. "Goodnight, girlfriend. Sweet dreams of me."

I shake my head at my silly boyfriend. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend. He's my boyfriend, did you know that? By the way, he's my boyfriend. "Goodnight, boyfriend." I say and then I click out with another stupid grin fest happening between us.

"BOYFRIEND!" I screech into my empty room because I'm crazy like that. I roll back on the floor and kick my legs in celebration. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfrienddddddd. Did you know I've got a boyfriend? Oh, sorry I'll have to call you back later, I have to go meet my boyfriend. Oh, my boyfriend's an architect, what does yours do? Oh wait, don't care, my boyfriend's awesome.

Pretty much for the rest of the night I practice new phrases I can use to brag as often and as plentiful as possible. Only when I've run out of things to say do I go to sleep—at midnight. And I'm still smiling.

My face is gonna break from grinning. Why am I grinning? Oh, because I have a boyfriend. Didn't you know?

**A/N: I don't know if you guys could tell but…Bella's got a boyfriend. It's true, I swear! Ha! I was, for some reason, really chipper while writing this so if Bella's a little more erratic then usual, that's all me shining through. In my defense, I was listening to Adele and Prince….uh**

**These fuckers were too cute this chapter, were they not? Oh, if you didn't get the cowardly lion quote then your homework is to watch Wizard of Oz and also, know that I'm bitchfacing you right now. I am. I really am. **

**Random Fic Rec: Meet the Masen's. I've been reading it all weekend and it's amazing. Link in my Favorites. **

**Erm, after this last line, I'm gonna start the long ass review comment responds so you can bugger off at that point unless you wanna read em or…look for your name or…whatever. **

**Reviewers get a boyfriend! Just kidding, I can't do that for you…only Match (dot) com can. Haha! But reviewers do get a…bag of chicken wings. Ahh, not a bad deal. **

**See ya at the salt mines, guys! Stay excellent! (Easy A movie quote, no shame)**

**Question: Ever had a long distance relationship? Or even better ever had'heard of one that worked? Bella's worried, you see. She's gotta know! **

**Oh and what are you guys listening to? Any Band of Skulls fan's out there? Hmm**

**~LazyMasochistBoots(Marie) Twitter: (at) ElmoStew**


	12. I Don't Do The ButtSex

**A/N: Hi guys, I'm confused as fuck! I may or may not have just gone on a date, not sure. I'll google later….**

**Anyways, I have this new thing I've been working on and I'm really digging it but you guys know I tend to start fics and then have trouble finishing them so…I'm nervous. I persuaded myself into thinking that if I pumped out a new SWS, then it'd be okay to start something new. HA!**

**BTW: For the 'Bella, Isabella' readers, that story is pretty much gone…I have no real intent in going on with it. I wrote it like yearsssssss ago and I'm just not in the place to continue with that plot. If I do finish it, it'll have to be majorly fixed and revised. So, uh, sorry. **

**BUT anyway, onwards with Bella and her BOYFRIEND! ;) **

**Chapter 12: I Don't Do The Butt-Sex **

"…so my boyfriend was like 'my God, Bella, you are so silly, be my girlfriend?' and I was like 'okay, boyfriend. You're my boyfriend and-"

"Bella, you've told me this story a million times in a million different versions!" Emmett complained as he stomped his foot and pouted at me. Clearly he was sipping on some Hater-rade. My story was boss. Regardless, if I'd told it to him this morning. And on my lunch break at work. And on the phone when he called. And in the car ride here. …while we were waiting for appetizers…then after I peed…and ten minutes ago- OKAY! So, I'd mentioned it a few times. Geez.

"Pardon me for being happy," I pouted, snatching a meatball from the pizza slice and eating it.

"No, I'm happy for you Bells but damn. How many times are you going to mention it?" He kicked me under the table when I shrugged. "And what's up with all these different versions of it? 'He jumped in his jet and rode over from Chicago just to ask me.' 'He rented a horse drawn carriage and had a scroll delivered to me asking me.' 'He flew me to space and hired Obi-Wan to ask me.'" He quoted me, his hands clasped under his chin and a dreamy look in his eyes. I threw a napkin at him.

"Shut up! The Obi-Wan one is totally believable."

"Yea…totally believable. Because I'm sure everyone has Obi-Wan on speed dial. I was talking to Chewbacca just a few days ago." He pulled out his phone and pretend to text Chewy.

"I need new friends," I complained rolling my eyes as Em bursted into laughter before his giggles were muffled by loud ass burps.

What a fucking charmer.

***SWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWS***

"Are ya ready kids?"

"AY AY, CAP'N!"

"I can't hear youuuuuu!"

"AY AY CAP'N!" I screamed back at the TV as that pirate challenged me because yes, I was watching Spongebob. Anyone who doesn't is just…wrong.

I scooped more delicious banana ice cream in my mouth and squirmed on the couch as it hit my taste buds. _Fuck yes, banana ice cream._ "Boyfriend, where for art thou?" I asked, as I checked the time on my phone. Hmm, it's seven. He's probably busy. I locked my phone and went back to watching Spongebob with a proud smile on my face.

You see, me being the totally secure and mature girlfriend I am, I completely understand that one of the most important elements of a relationship is space. You know, give them some breathing room.

I grabbed my laptop and logged on to Skype.

You have to understand that the guy or girl are going to need some space, some alone time to themselves to just breathe and be.

I searched for his name in my Skype contacts.

Don't be clingy. No one digs that and it's just not cool, y'know. Just relax and, hey, if they don't come to you. Give em some time. They might be in the shower or…washing their hair. Yea, space is the most important part.

Too bad I was already dialing him.

"Boyfriend!" I cheered when he finally appeared on screen.

He gave me that crooked smile. "Hey, you."

How cute was it when guys said 'hey you'? "Hi. You look different. Did you-" I gasped, "-actually get a good night's sleep?" I gaped at him.

"Shut up, smartass," he laughed. "But, yes, I did get some rest this afternoon after my meeting," he smiled a secret smile.

"Your meeting, you say?" I raised a brow.

"Yes. My Playboy meeting."

"Ugh. Was Pamela there? Or any of the other bunnies?" I sneered, eating more ice cream.

He laughed. "No, but the very wrinkly Hugh Hefner was there."

"Your hero? The Hef master?"

"The very same. He's even wrinkle in person, I must say."

"So, the rumors are true…" I said sadly.

"You're crazy," was his response with a chuckle. "Don't you want to know what happened?"

"Of course, I'm all ears." I sat up straighter and put the carbs on the table.

"Well, I showed them the designs and the room went quiet for a really long time. I was scared shitless but finally after like ten minutes of them whispering amongst each other, they finally told me what they thought," he finished sadly.

"Oh. I'm sorry, they-"

"They loved them!" he shouted, laughing at my confused face.

"You! You tricked me, I thought you were gonna say they hated it." I growled at him. "But I'm happy for you, really happy."

"Thank you, Bella. It's all thanks to you, really. I made a few tweaks last night that I'm sure are what won them over. I was feeling inspired after a certain someone agreed to be mine."

"Oh, shucks!" I blushed, fanning him off. "It was your talent that won them over, babe."

"Oh, shucks!" he mimicked, a smirk on his perfect lips.

"But did you really have any doubt I'd agree to be yours?"

"Honestly, yea. I mean…I don't personally know you. Any sane person would have some trepidation to dating a virtual stranger. Luckily, you're insane."

"Oh ha ha. You should never have had any doubt. You've been wooing me from the start. Of course I had to say yes," I shrugged.

"I'm glad you did," he admitted, seriously. "I…I want this to work." He motioned a hand between us. "It's strange and I've never done the whole distance thing but I'm willing to do what I have to in order to ensure that this is as…normal as possible."

"You're such a fucking sweetheart!" I word-vomited.

"Thanks, I think," he grinned. "But I'm serious. I want us to have everything normally. The dates, the laughing, the communication, the-"

"Sex?" I slapped a hand over my mouth. Clearly, I have no fucking filter. Note to self: SHUT UP!

"Um…"

"You don't have to answer that. I'm just being a dumbass."

"No, I'll answer. Is….is that something you'd be up to? I mean, would you like to?"

"Skype sex? Uh…I haven't exactly…I mean I've never-"

"Me neither but-"

"I'd be willing to, I think. Yea. I mean it's Skype sex, you know? No big deal. I mean, I'd do the sex. Sex is just sex. I'd do any sex. But I don't do the butt-sex. That's not a sex I like to sex and whoo…I just said butt-sex, didn't I? I'm gonna go ahead and shut up now. Okay." I tugged on the ends of my hair wondering why I found it so hard to close my yapper.

Meanwhile, Edward was in hysterics. As always, he found my verbal diarrhea amusing. "Okay," he panted. "Got it. You don't do the butt-sex," he gasped out before sliding back into more laughter.

"Stop laughing! My inability to stop talking is not funny!" I insisted.

He stopped and gave me that panty dropping grin. "I'm sorry. You're adorable."

"Blah, blah, blah."

"But okay…so sex."

"When we're ready."

"Of course, yea, when we're ready."

I nodded. "What about kissing?" I asked.

His face dropped. "I wish. But…" he stood and kissed the camera lens.

I laughed at him. "You dork."

"You didn't kiss me back," he pouted.

I kissed the tiny webcam. "There."

"Mmm. Now I can go to bed a happy man."

"Again, I say, dork."

"And you love it!"

"Perhaps." I smiled before a stupid yawn took over my face.

"You're tired?"

"Yea. I've been up since five. Don't tell me this is the part where you go, 'go get some sleep'."

"Nope. This is the part where I fake a yawn and exhaustion thereby persuading you to go sleep as I exit Skype."

"You evil, evil man." He gave me a wicked smile.

"Fine, I'll sleep but promise you'll call me tomorrow? I'm off so I'll be loitering."

"I promise to call you tomorrow now off you go."

"Bossy man."

"Stubborn woman." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Sleep."

"Yea, yea. Bye, Mr. Skype."

"Bye, girlfriend."

Gah! He knew that would make me smile. I clicked out, grinning. As always.

**A/N: So, this was kinda short although…all the chapters are. But hey, you go it much sooner than usual! Anyway, I needed this chapter to sorta introduce that soon the M rating will come into effect. Erm, if you've read the one-shot version of this then you should know, if not go check it out. **

**I was a bit hyper writing this until the end at which time, my stomach started killing meeeeee! So, I made them go to bed. Yea, cause I have the power to do that and stuff. **

**I miss SOF's notes more than anyone will ever know. Sigh. **

**Reviewers get banana ice cream delivered to them by Bella herself. Unless she's busy flipping patties or something….**


	13. I Came, I Saw, I Ate Too Much

**A/N: Howdy fuckin do, ya'll! I'm back after all this time and I've taken forever I know but this story puts me in such ruts and I just have no way of finishing them and that totally discourages me from writing more. But I'm gonna try because if I don't Catieexx is gonna lose a shit ton of friends ;) **

**As always, THANK YOU guys for sticking with the story and enjoy the chapter...**

**Chapter 13: I Came, I Saw, I Ate Too Much**

Admittedly, I'd been staring at the clock since 12:45. Let's just put that out there right now. I ain't ashamed. Nope. However, maybe, just maybe I shouldn't have kept checking the time on the clock from then all the way to now. 5:15. Perhaps, and I'm just guessing here but perhaps...that was a bit creepy.

But I was waiting for Mr. Skype and he'd specifically said that he'd call me today. Specifically said that and it was now approaching the six o'clock hour and I'd yet to receive a single notification. My foot was tapping and the skin around my nails was being chewed to bits. Those were the signs of a frustrated Bella. Luckily, there's a cure.

"Ice cream of the banana persuasion!" I prescribed, jumping off my ass to retrieve the carton from the freezer along with my favorite spoon which I may or may not have received as a toy from a Happy Meal once.

I splayed myself out on the couch and flipped on the TV, deciding that I was gonna go with the flow. If he called, he called, if he didn't...then he had some 'splainin' to do. Simple as that. I'm so mature in my relationships. I amaze myself.

30 minutes of me spoon feeding my face with airplanes and choo-choo noises later, my carton was empty and I was sure there was now another five pounds on me that'd avoided my boobs and flown to my ass. I'd reached that level of full where I just felt like I could feel all the liquid squashing around inside me. It was then that the illusive Mr. Skype decided to call me.

It was also then that I noticed my laptop was all the way across the freaking room.

Walking was out of the question. "Noooooo," I groaned hearing my stomach growl at me. Luckily, I'm fluent in Tummy Latin and I can translate its ramblings. It was saying: bitch, you're not making that phone call. You should have thought about it before you ate your weight in ice cream.

My stomach was rude.

Ignoring it, I rolled off the couch onto the floor and proceeded to begin my crawl across the room. "Must. Answer. Call. Must. Reach. Computer," I mantra'd dragging myself across the room like I was in one of those mud patches at a boot camp. I was a soldier on a mission. "Almost there," I grunted out, my arms feeling weaker. I have got to work out more. I've crawled like what, five feet and I can't handle that? Pathetic with a capital P. "Come here you," I whispered to my lap top as I reached up, my fingers grazing its side.

And damn it to Squidward if it didn't stop ringing the exact moment I touched it. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuuuu, man!" I yelled, snatching the computer from the desk and flipping onto my back, sitting it on my chest. I dialed him back, grumbling to myself.

"Bella," he greeted as he accepted my call. "I just called, we're you in the shower?"

"Hi. No, I was here."

"You're on the floor," he observed with that look he often got where he was unsure of whether to laugh or not.

"I am," I agreed, sitting up on my elbows.

"Any particular reason for that?"

"The weather's nice down here, y'know? You don't lay on your floor sometimes? It's quite nice. I guess it's just a um...California thing to do." Play it ever so cool.

"Right, uh huh. I guess Chicago's too cold to know about that um...custom." He was biting his lip to hold back his laughter now.

"You're not buying this are you?" I asked.

"Not at all. Wanna tell me why you're on the floor now?"

I sighed. "I ate too much ice cream. My stomach is all sloshy and I had to crawl to get to the computer and missed your first call. Moving is out of bounds for me right now. I'm stuck down here. I'll give you a moment to laugh now."

He nodded and proceeded to laugh his head off at me. "You weren't supposed to actually laugh at me!" I insisted.

"I'm sorry but you are just so...I don't even know the words for you. You do things like this everyday?"

"No. Last time it was pizza overload, not ice cream," I said defensively. That only made him laugh harder. "Hey, rude ass, less laughy more talky," I interrupted, sulkily.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You're hilarious and you don't even me to be. Take my laughter as a compliment."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm sorry," he smiled at me.

"You're manipulative is what you are. Damn smiling trick gets me every time," I grumble.

He grinned at me. "I've noticed that. Imagine what I could be capable of if I used that face to face with you," he wondered mischievously, waggling his brows.

"The results could be devastating. I don't even want to think about the chaos that could ensue."

He let out a maniacal laugh, evil claws and all.

"And I thought I was the wacky one," I chuckle.

"Oh, you are," he said, hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to keep up."

"Uh huh. So, that's gonna happen then?"

"What?"

"The inevitable meeting between us."

"Well, it _is_ inevitable so yea, I'd say so."

"When, do you think?"

"I don't know. You can't stay away much longer," he teased.

"Shut up."

"Soon."

"Soon?"

"Yea. When we're both free from any obligations from work or life. When we can both just spend hours upon hours together without any interruptions."

I coughed out, "Cheesy fucker," under my breath making him laugh once again.

"Oh, whatever. You love the idea."

"Perhaps. Hours upon hours, huh? Whatever shall we do with our time?"

"Oh, you know. We can read, discuss politics, the normal stuff," he deadpanned.

"Whoa Captain Sarcasm, when did you get here?" I yelled at him.

"Around the same time as you, Madame Oblivious. Come on, CowBell, if I get you to myself for a long period of time what do you think I'm going to want to do?"

"I dunno! That's why I asked! What are you gonna do?"

"Everything I'm not able to do right now. It sucks being so far away. This time right now is awesome but if I were in the same room with you it'd be much more fun. I'm sure you feel the same."

I nodded. "So, we'll get together and just do boyfriend-girlfriend stuff?"

"Yea."

"Soon?"

"Soon."

"And what happens when it's time for you to go back home?"

"I'll have withdrawals, surely," he joked.

"No, Edward, seriously, what then?"

"...that's the part I'm still working on."

**A/N: Hey guys. So, that was that. I've decided that no Skype sex will happen until they've met each other. Sorry to the pervs out there that were eager. Hold your horses. **

**But hey these fuckers are insisting that they're meeting 'soon'. Will they or won't they? That's for me to know and for you to...**

**Reviewers get Captain Sarcasm and Madame Oblivious hand delivering ice cream to them! Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Question: Should they meet? Is it too soon? I want to know you guy's opinions. **

**~LazyMasochist(Marie)**


	14. Thank God For that Old, Dirty Fart!

**A/N: I could go on and on about how sorry I am for taking a month to update but it'd take too long and you guys would still be upset so I'll just say…love youuuuu, guys! **

**Did that work? Are we friends again? Yay! **

**Chapter 14: That God for that Old, Dirty Fart!**

On my next off day, which was a week after Edward and I discussed our inevitable meeting, I took the time to reflect on the fact that

"You guys are nasty with a capital N," I comment as Rosalie feeds Emmett's face with several French fries and Emmett licks ketchup from the side of her mouth to accompany them.

"Bitter harpy," Emmett replied to me with a grin on his face. "Rosie and I are just too adorable for you to handle."

"Eff you, buddy. All I'm suggesting is that if you gotta bring Rosie Posie Booboo out to lunch with us, don't leave me sitting on the other side of the booth looking like the third wheel," I grumble.

"Aw, Bella boo," he pouts as Rosalie rolls her eyes at me. I flip her off. She flips her hair.

"Just wait till Edward gets here then it'll be you guys sitting there looking awkward and whatnot," I say and I feel a smile taking over my face as I think about walking around town with Edward on my arm.

Emmett grins, remembering when I told him about what Edward said about us meeting. "Oh yea! When's that gonna happen, Belly?"

I grin back at him. "Soon."

**SWS**

"Yeaaaaaa, party in the USA!" I sing loudly as I enter my apartment. I snatch my earbuds from my ear and bear no shame at listening to that song. I raid my refrigerator and freezer and find nothing of interest except a can of whip cream.

I plop myself down on the couch and spray stream after stream of whipped cream in my mouth as I watch Nickelodeon's finest. iCarly comes on and I cover my ears while the whiny theme song plays. I start to nod off when some cartoon that isn't Spongebob comes on and the next time I wake up, my hand is somehow covered in cream and my head is hanging off the couch.

"Blood flow, blood flow!" I panic, sitting up and feeling dizzy as I regain my balance. "Head is still in tact. Tell the troops to stand down. All is good," I mumble to myself in a deep voice, pretending to be on a super secret space mission. _My God, I am weird_, I conclude as I sneak around the room hunched over and creeping.

"Cadets, what time is it?" I ask my empty apartment as I glance at the clock. "I see. It's um…sixteen…hundred hours…" I trail off, forgetting how to do the military time thingy I saw on TV once. I shrug and scratch my stomach as I unhunch and stretch my back. Anyway. It was 7 o'clock. Edward should be calling any moment then.

Since he'd got his company such a huge account wit the Playboy thing, his boss was being more lenient and had started to let him leave a bit earlier than usual and allowed him to work from home more often. I'd been seeing a lot more of him than I had before and it was more awesome than an octopus belly dancing.

As if he knew I was just thinking about his adorable butt, my laptop started to ring out an alert of his call. I leapt over to my computer desk and sat, clicking the button to answer him. "Hi, bunny bear!" I squealed, trying out a new nickname. It only served to make me annoyed with myself and Edward scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Yea, I'm on a sugar high. Ignore that."

He laughs. "You're always on a sugar high."

I think for a moment. "True."

"So, how has your day been, Cowbell?"

"Booooooooooring. I hung with Emmett and Rosalie Stinkbomb and then I came home and collapsed on some Nickelodeon. You?"

"Typical stuff. Working, sketching, yelling, coffee, sketching, fixing, meeting and then home finally. The life of an architect."

"I'd give you a massage to ease your stress but you're kinda far away and rubbing my monitor would be muy awkwardo, so I'll refrain."

He nods in agreement with a huge smile on his face. "I got some good news for us though," he mentions with a secret smile.

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Nope. I won't tell you but I'll make you guess. I want to see your face when you figure it out."

"I don't like guessing," I pout.

"Sure you do. Now, come on, you ready?"

I nod and fold my arms petulantly.

"Okay so, as you know they loved the designs I did for Hugh's playboy mansion. So, I was in a meeting with my boss today and he wants me to fly out and supervise the build, to make sure it's executed exactly how I planned."

I nod, happy for him. "That's great that you're moving on up so quickly. But, what does that have to do with me?"

He rolls his eyes, but keeps a smirk on his face. "Supervise the _Playboy mansion_, Bella," he repeats.

I hunch up my shoulders and stare at him with my best 'and so what?' face, still not getting his point. He tugs at his hair and shakes his head at me.

"Where do you live, Bella?"

Now I'm really fucking confused. Is this a geography lesson? "California."

"And where does Hugh Hefner live?"

"Los Angeles," I answer, recalling that I'd read an article about him and his mansion a couple months ago in a trash magazine I'd spotted.

Edward seriously stares at me like I have brain damage for a solid minute after I answer. "Bella, where is Los Angeles?" he finally questions again.

"California," I bristle at him wondering why he's staring at me like that.

"So, I'll be going where to supervise the build?"

"California!" I yell. How many questions is he gonna ask before he gets to the point— "Holy shit!" I yell as I get it finally. "THANK GOD FOR THAT OLD, DIRTY FART OF A MAN!" I yell as I happy dance in my chair.

Edward's laughing now as he watches me shimmy and shake in my chair. "Finally you get it! I think all that sugar is killing your brain cells.'

"Shut it, mister. I'm psyched! When are you coming?"

"Two weeks. Will you meet me at the airport?"

"Can I run to you in slow motion?"

"Yes," he chuckles.

"Then of course I'll come meet you. I'm so happy I'm gonna poop my pants!" I yell, making his laughter escalate. "This is gonna be awesome."

"It is. I can't wait. When I found out today I couldn't wait to tell you."

I squee a very unBella like squee. "Wait, you gotta bring me something, okay? Like a souvenir from the ole Chi Town."

"I'll bring you some very cold Chicago pizza. Have some Portillo hotdogs ready for me, will you?" he asks in return.

"Yes! Of course! I feel so giddy, this is going to be epic."

"I can't wait until I see my Cowbell in person."

"Ditto."

"Hopefully she's not covered in grease though."

"Hush! I'll take some time off. I'll make sure to smell super normal. Just make sure you don't smell like sweaty jetlag."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Good. 14 days," I inform.

"14 days," he agrees.

**A/N: So…there ya go in about 2 chapters time these two will be together! Yay! Perhaps that makes up for my snazzy updating? I hope so. As always, thank you guys for reading and reviewing and continuing to support my stories. You're all awesome!**

**Reviewers get a gift bag with hotdogs, pizza, whip cream and iCarly on DVD. ;) **

**~LazyMasochist(Marie)**


	15. Krispy Yoga

**A/N: This is awkward. It's like you're my ex and I've just showed up to your wedding...that's how awkward it is. **

**When you think about that...it makes no sense. **

**Anyways, hey guys, how the hell are ya? Um would you like an explanation for my absence? Kay, here's the brief version: Ffnet, Computer, School, me = lazy. Got it? Good. **

**By the time this gets to you guys, I'll have already prewritten some stuff so the waits will not be TOO long. Yayyyy! **

**Read on, peeps!**

**Chapter 15: Krispy Yoga **

There's some lucky bitch who, in 13 days, gets to see her Skype lovah. What her name again? Oh, it's me! I can't even handle how epic it is going to be in two weeks when Edward is here with me. Eeep! I head-bang like a psycho and have a minor heart attack as I flip a burger. Not even work can get me down. In fact, I've actually been doing it lately. Well, more like I've been a ray of fucking sunshine to the customers when I work the register but I'm still burning shit and passing it off as perfect. That'll never change.

"Bella, put your hairnet on. This is a kitchen," Seth tells me.

"No worries, Sethy, my shampoo has special nutrients that'll enhance the flava of the burger," I smile at his slack jawed face.

**SWS**

"Extend your arm so that it touches the tip of your toes. Feel the pull in your side as you breathe in..and out." I huffed in time with the woman on the yoga tape. You see, being a woman with a hottie mctottie who will be arriving in 13 days, I gotta keep my body tight.

"Bella, it's not going to work if you eat while you do it," Emmett remarks from his perch on my bed as he takes a bite of a cheese stick. Why people choose to eat straight up cheese is beyond me.

I bite off another piece of my Rice Krispy Treat and shake my fist at him and yell curses at him, bits of my treat flying in his direction. "What did you say?" he asks when I'm done.

I huff again and roll my eyes as I swallow my food. "I said 'you are gonna be so pissed at yourself when my body is more sculpted than a piece of playdoh in a kindergarten class and yours starts to stretch out from your years of wing eating, til you look like a piece of flabby gum, someone stepped on in comparison.'" Point for Bella.

Emmett sneers at me but then moves a hand down to pinch a bit of skin from his stomach. "I'm not flabby."

"Not yet, flabster."

"Not ever."

I rolled my eyes again as he flexed at his reflection in my mirror and checked out the wiggle of his ass. No joke, he shook his ass and was counting the seconds as it jiggled. "Dumps in the trunk, what what..." I sang in my best impersonation of Sisqo.

"Argggggh!" Emmett huffed, stomping out.

I chuckled as I bit off another piece of my Rice Krispy, smiling victoriously. After all, what reason had I to do anything but smile? My man, Mr. Skype, that is, was due at my doorstep in 13 days. What mothachucker wouldn't shit a happy brick at that news?

A dumb one. Aka, not me, because I was smarticle.

"Rose agrees that eating while exercising is a poopy idea," Em says as he reenters the room.

I stop my movements. "You dareth mention her name in my place of dwelling?" I asked in what I sense to be the most perfect Elizabethan accent ever attempted. I gesture to my room, in all its clothes-on-every-surface glory.

"I just asked her and Rose says that it's counterproductive." A five syllable word just came from Emmett's mouth...What is she doing to him?

"Well, that's weird. I didn't know she'd changed her name," I say confusedly.

"What?" he questions, equally confuzzled.

"Well, clearly Rosalie's changed her name to Wikipedia since she's ACTING LIKE SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING!" I exclaim. People nowadays, I tell you. Completely bonkers. Imitating Wikipedia...what _has_ the world come to?

**SWS**

"Heyyyy, booger," I say to the smiling face of my boyfriend as he pops up on the screen. I wink at him and adjust myself on the couch.

He runs a hand over his face, laughing at the name. "Hey, there. You're awfully peppy."

"It's better than being awfully salty," I kid. "Ah, ah, you see what I did there?" I ask him with another wink as I laugh to myself at how funny I am. "Cause you said peppy like pepper. Ahh," I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye.

"Yes, Bella, I see." He's laughing again and shaking his head at me. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"I don't know," I feign a sigh, "maybe it's because my awesome as boyfrannnd is gonna be here soon!" I do a happy dance in my seat, complete with shimmying and hip thrusts.

He grins at me. "You're really that excited?"

"Yes!" I say in my pumped voice. Which is similar to the Hulk when he transforms and makes Edward eye me strangely. "Aren't you excited?" I ask, calming down and clearing my throat.

"Hell yes. Although, I'm feeling a bit afraid of your excitement. It'd be a bit embarrassing if you tackled me in the airport and knocked me over."

"Oh please," I say, fanning a hand at him, the silly boy. "I am so composed in public. Plus, I promised I'd run to you in slow motion and I can't very well tackle you from a slow-mo run, can I?" I say like I'm Velma from Scooby Doo, solving a mystery.

"I guess not," he says with a smile and a nod. "Hey, you want to see the designs for the house?"

"Yes!" I agreed immediately, wanting to see some of his work. I feel all exclusive and behind the scenes. I can see the builds for what's sure to be the talk of the town before it's even built. So fetch.

Edward reaches down below camera in what I'm guessing are the drawers to his desk and pulls out a stack of paper, sorting through them before holding up a sheet. He holds it to the camera, moving it until the light doesn't reflect of the surface.

The house is amazeballs. Shaped like the Playboy symbol, as requested, and is very tall and thick without distracting from the shape. His sketch is precise, with little scribbles of details written on the sides of the page. You can see he's erased and redrawn many times, trying to perfect it. "That house is gonna be groovy."

He takes the paper away, smiling thankfully, a slight tint to his cheeks with my compliment. "Thanks. This was my final practice drawing. The actual, finished sketch is with the company."

"Bro, it's so cool. It's like..." I search for a words to describe it. "It's cooler than a polar bear living in an ice cream igloo." That about sums it up. I sit back, satisfied with my analysis.

"That..is the best compliment I've ever received. Thank you."

I tip an invisible hat. "Welcome, sir."

"So, are you planning our days yet?"

"Ooh! Ooh! Yes! Me! Me! Pick me!" I say, raising my hand like an over eager kid in class.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking we could double with my bestie Emmett and his she witch hump buddy who he'll probably want to drag along, Rosalie and after we could come to my place and have a Spongebob marathon and eat the pizza that you will be bringing. Because you will bring that pizza," I say threateningly.

"Sounds like fun," he laughs. "I'm bringing my sister along with me cause she says she's dying to see 'Cali-forn-ay-yay'" he mocks in a high pitched voice. "She's insane and will probably want to tag along, if that's okay."

"That's kosher," I say in affirmation. "It'll be cool. I can't wait for you to meet Emmett. He's the one who was sending you the messages that night. Certifiably insane, he is."

"Oh, yea. I hope he doesn't actually say 'like' a million times in conversation like he did that night."

"Fortunately, no." It was silent for a second as I realized something. "Where are you staying when you come?"

"Oh," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't know. Alice was gonna work out accommodations for us."

"Well, I was just thinking..." I pick at fringe on my couch as I nonchalantly broach the subject. "You could totes park your buttocks in my place if you liked..." I trailed off with a shrug.

"Are you inviting me to your place?" he asks with a knowing smirk.

"Psh, I don't know, man...if you dig it and I dig it then we can dig it together," I say with another shrug.

He laughs at me. "I'd love to park my buttocks at your place," he agrees.

"Cool!" I cheer, relieved. "You can park the rest of yourself here too, if you like."

"I was planning on it."

"Oh," I say, pretending to be offended. "Well, that's rude, just taking it upon yourself to invite your organs and other body parts to my home when only one was invited."

"Yea, I guess I'm just rude like that."

"Just a rude boy. Rude...boy..." Why does that sound familiar?

"Are you gonna start singing that-"

Bingo! "Come here, rude boy boy can you give it up!" I yell as I remember the Rihanna song that plagued my life a while ago. I gyrate in my seat and do my best dance impersonation of Shakira.

"You're so weird," Edward remarks, though he's laughing hard at me. "If this is you in a good mood, though..."

"Then you are in so much trouble in 13 days, Mr. Skype."

"The best kind of trouble comes with you involved, Cowbell."

**A/N: I while ago(it was probably last chapter) I said that in two chapters time, these two would be together. Yea...no, let's give it some more time to build up. Kays?**

**I want to give thanks to the story Fanfic, Sex Gods and Single Girls by bannerday for inspiring me to get my ass back on the update train. That story is very review/audience driven and it made me realize I miss you guys. So yea. **

**Thank you if you're someone who saw this in their inbox and said 'yay' or 'seriously!?' because you were excited and thanks if you're someone who said 'oh this no updating biatch is back?' but read anyway. Just, if you're reading this, thanks. Thanks for sticking with me or thanks for joining. You're amazeballs. **

**Question: Krispy Yoga or real Yoga which involves no eating during the process? Ick. **

**Reviewer's get a burger covered in special nutrient enhancing shampoo, a box of Rice Krispy's and some Susan Lucci workout tapes. **

**LazyMasochist(Marie) Twitter: ElmoStew**


	16. Kiddie Meals and Nice Sprites

**A/N: Hayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy is for horses. Hi is for stoners. Yo is for yogurt. And lotion's for boners. **

***cue me laughing at myself for being so funny and so easily impressed with my own jokes* **

**I crack myself up. **

**I'm thinking two chapters time from this one is the meet up.**

**Enjoy, y'all! **

**Chapter 16: Kiddie Meals and Nice Sprites **

"Ma'am, can I ask what it is your son has done wrong?" I ask with concern as I gingerly touch the woman's shoulder as she passes me. She looks to be in her early 30's, has cropped hair and is holding the hand of a little blond boy.

"Excuse me?" she says in confusion.

"Oh, well, I don't mean to pry," I laugh softly, touching a hand to my chest in faux worry. "It's just...you're taking him into Newton's...to get a Kiddie Special, I presume?"

"Yes...?"

"And a..." I stop and look her up and down. She doesn't appear to be a frequent supersizer. "...a Newton Fresh Chicken Salad for yourself?"

"Yes, how did you-"

"Like I said," cutting her off, "I don't mean to pry but...your kid looks like a nice boy. I can't possibly understand what he's done for you to drag him in _there_." I nod my head towards the restaurant and shiver as if remembering a bad memory. "Maybe sacrifice yourself but not the kid. NOT THE KID, I BEG YOU!" _Mayb_e a tad dramatic.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, sounding slightly intrigued and concerned.

"Well, haven't you heard? Newton's hit a few snags with the health department for their Kiddie meals and 'chicken' products," I whisper conspiratorially, complete with airquotes.

"Say whaaaat?" she questions like a sister-girlfriend. "What's wrong with the Kiddie Meals?"

"Well," I pretend to look around cautiously and lean in, "you didn't hear it from me but...the chicken salads aren't the only things that come..._fresh_." I raise my eyebrows to emphasize my point.

She gasps and her hands flies to her chest. "You mean..."

"Uh huh."

"...in the food?"

"Yes, ma'am. Your son...I'm worried for him to go in there...they _love_ blondes."

"Oh my- Come on, Connor, let's go!" she says, pulling him away quickly. "Thank you, miss! Thank you!" she exclaims, looking back at me before hightailing it away.

What I do once she's left can only be described as cackling. Like I'm-About-To-Die cackling. So, maybe it's bad that I just convinced a lady Newton's is serving toddlers in the kitchen...that's what Mike gets for putting me on flier duty outside the restaurant. I got too much swagger for flier duty, psh, somebody betta' tell him who I is.

**SWS**

1O days until the undoubtedly pert and perfect tush of Mr. Skype is parked in my home. Cue Bella air humping while humming the 50 cent 'go shawty, it's ya birfday' song.

"We're gonna party like it's ya birfday!" I shout, shaking my groove tang as I stuff more hot-dog in my mouth, dancing around my apartment.

My computer starts to ring, signaling a Skype call and I rush over with a squeal, suspecting it's Eduardo calling to converse with my awesomeness.

"Hey, sex monkey, it ain't my birfday but I'm partying like-you're not Edward!" I realize loudly, forcing my hips to stop their sway. They're dangerously good at drawing people in and I don't think the tiny, smiling girl in front of me wants to be drawn. _Draw me like one of your French girls_, I think randomly.

"Hiiii," she waves. "I'm Alice, Edward's sister. He's mentioned me?" she asks with a smile and another wave.

"Erm...yea...what it do?" I ask awkwardly, caught completely off guard and feeling so un-suave in this moment.

"Oh! Um...it doos? It do's good?" she says, unsure of how to respond. She ain't down with the 411, it's all good, homie G.

"Oh, good. Forgive me if this sounds rude but...why is your face on my screen?"

"Oh," she giggles, "I wanted to speak to you. You know, since you're with my brother and all." She says it like it's not big deal that she's a stranger to me and is perched on my screen.

I pause a moment to take her in. She's got those weird eyes. You know...fuck...what are they called...nutmeg...pecan...hazelnut...hazel! She's got hazel eyes and cropped black hair that curls and frames her face. It's topped off with brilliantly cut bangs and expertly crafted eyebrows. She's like a limited edition Barbie, all crafted and stuff.

"Well, then, whaddaya wanna talk about?"

"Not much right now. I sent Edward on a bit of a wild goose chase to talk to you and he's probably gonna figure it out and be back soon. I just wanted to say hi..."

"Oh...well...hi." I wave at her with a small grin. I must be pretty damn awesome. Strangers stalk their brother's Skype just to witness my glorious swag.

"I sho-"

"Muffy!" I heard Edward growl in the background.

"Uh oh," Alice says quietly, flinching and shrugging at me.

Edward's bedroom door flies open and he stomps in, looking frazzled. "Muffy, you sneaky little-" he stops when he sees me watching with rapt attention as the drama unfolds. "You called her! You actually called her!"

"Eddie, I just wanted to-" she starts, standing from his chair.

"Ohhh, I know what you wanted to do," he says a bit menacingly, wagging his finger before pointing to the door. "Exit stage right."

"Fine, fine," she grumbled with a pout. "Bye, Bella, we'll talk soon."

"Sure, thing, Muffy," I wink slyly. She grins and sticks her tongue out at her brother before leaving, closing the door behind her.

"That girl..." Edward begins as he sits down, shaking his head.

"Your hair is freaking out," I say, pointing to the Chia look he's got going on.

"I bet. I've been crawling around the living room, under the furniture looking for the plans Alice told me she'd lost. Took me ten minutes before I realized that: A, Alice has nothing to do with the plans and B, the plans are safely in the hands of my boss at work," he shakes his head at himself as he goes on. "She took advantage of my exhaustion. My brain isn't functioning completely today and she knows that."

"Why are you exhausted? I thought we were back to sleepy sleep nights?"

"I went out with some guys last night to celebrate the plans. We stayed out til 3 a.m. and I woke up with the hangover from hell. My body is still pissed at me."

"Aww, poor Honey Booboo," I say with a sympathetic pout.

He shivers. "Ugh, don't even. That little girl scares me."

I think about the tiny reality show powerhouse. "True," I agree, nodding solemnly. "So, what did Alice really want?"

He scoffs. "My loving sister didn't believe you existed and wanted to see you for herself. I've told her several times that I'm not pathetic enough to make a person up but I guess she had to see you with her own eyes," he explains with a tiny finishing laugh.

"With her own hazelnuts," I mumble to myself.

"What?"

I fan my hand. "Nothing." Hazelnut. Chickenbutt. Rhymes. I snicker to myself a bit as Mr. Skype attempts to right his hair.

He sighs. "So, what are you up to? And sorry about my sister, by the way."

"No problem. I was actually just shaking my ta-ta's and eating a hot-dog before she called."

"Any chance I can get a private show?" he asks hopefully.

"Though my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain-check. When you're here with me, then we can congo together all you want."

"Promises, promises, Cowbell," he smirks.

"In 10 days, it'll be a reality. Imagine me, my swag and my milkshake in the very flesh." I slap both palms to my cheeks and gape ala Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone and Edward laughs.

"I cannot wait."

**A/N: The chapter chalked full of references, yayy! For the record, I've never watched Honey Booboo but I did have the misfortune of seeing the 'flossing my teeth with spaghetti' incident. -shudders- And I HATE, repeat, HATE Titanic though I've never seen the full movie but the 'draw me like your French girls' came to mind. And of course, everyone loves Home Alone. Sigh. Oh and let's not forget the tiny Skrillex reference in the chapter title. Eh? Eh? ;)**

**Anyhoozers, you guys...I've updated steadily for two weeks in a row now! Yayyy! I'm proud of me. Anyway, I wanna do a few fic recs quickly: Yosemite Decimal, Emotional Warfare, Fanfiction, Sex Gods and Single Girls and A Nerd Story of Love. They're all groovy and I've been reading them all weekend. Check em out!**

**Reviewers get...limited edition Barbies(not my thing), hazenuts and a Newton's super super super fresh Chicken Salad. Vegetarians readers just get lettuce. :P Thanks for reading, lovah's!**

**~LazyMasochistBoot(Marie) Twitter: ElmoStew **


	17. Lucky Charms

**A/N: Yea, yea, a week late. Geesh mom, get off my back. GAWSH. **

**Chapter 17: Lucky Charmsss**

You know, you'd think that people would be a little bit more organized with big stores like these. I mean, you're Walmart. Shouldn't you have extensive labels above every aisle telling me specifically what I can find where. And please explain why the baby toys are in a completely different aisle from all the baby stuff. And, really, please explain how you think that Polly Pocket has any right to be in the same aisle as the Bratz dolls. I mean _really_.

"Hey! Hey, you, blue person!" I call out to the Justin Beiber wannabe down the aisle from me. He turns and flips his hair across his face, looking like an ostrich with a twitch and then makes his way towards me.

Another flip and he fixes his blue shirt and nametag. "Name's Brett," he says with a smile and a complete surfer boy accent. Like legit, _dude, totally, gnarly_ accent.

"Great to know. Do you know where I can find the toy section?"

He looks around at the air like it's some mystical unicorn. "Dude, you're like, standing in it." He laughs and nods at me like I'm the dumb one.

"No, dude," I say, mocking him. "This is like totally the toddler toy aisle. Y'know where the Barbies are. I want like Yahtzee and Twister, y'know, man?"

Brett stares back blankly before letting out another Goofy laugh. "I feel you. Corporate is so lost nowadays, y'know?" And then that's it. He's done.

"So...Yahtzee...Battleship...fucking Monopoly."

"Ohhhhhh you wanna play the games with the pawn thingys. That's over in the other toy aisle. By the car stuff." He starts to walk away.

"Wait, wait, wait." I try and make reason with this information. "You're telling me that in addition to the baby toy aisle, the toddler toy aisle and the entire aisle dedicated to _Monster High Dolls_, there is _another_ aisle of toys...and it's over by the car stuff?" I ask slowly.

"Yea." Hair flip.

"Like motor oil and spare tires?"

"The very same, dude."

And just like that, I've lost all faith in humanity.

**SWS**

"Guy, I'm shitting my pants in excitement!" I say as his smexy jawbone and the rest of him appears on the screen. I bounce in my seat and writhe.

"I'm psyched too, Cowbell," he agrees with a smirk. "And also a bit nervous," he adds, with a tiny shrugs and lowered eyes.

"No shit? Me too. I mean I can't wait to meet you but y'know, it's weird." I motion between the two of us. "It's gonna be weird to see you with legs. Holy shit, I get to see your legs!" I slap a hand over my mouth in shock. Actual shock because I rarely get to acknowledge the fact that Mr. Skype has legs.

"No way! Now way!" he deadpans back, mocking me.

"Shut up! I mean what if I'm taller than you or something? And everyone stares because you're actually like two-foot-one and the kids point and oh my god, you're a leprechaun, aren't you? Like the creepy ones from the movies!"

He's laughing but it might be a nervous one because he knows I'm onto him. "Do you have your own clan? And do you guys really wear the hats with the little bucklers on em? Holy lucky charms-"

"Bella," he starts, laughing still. "I am not a leprechaun."

I narrow my eyes and laugh humorlessly. "That's exactly what a leprechaun would say."

"Such a strange woman."

"At least I don't run around with pots of gold and four leaf clovers..." I trail off, popping a chip in my mouth. Yummy, salty, Lays, ladies and gents.

He runs a hand over his face to smooth a smile and shakes his head before speaking. "You're always eating," he remarks, pointing to the giant bag of chips in my lap.

"Not true," I defend, a few crumbs falling from my chin.  
>"So true," he grins at me. "Let's hope your manners are better when I take you out to eat."<p>

"Why, Mr. Skype, did you just ask me out?" I press a salty hand to my chest in jest. Annnnd that shit rhymed.

"I believe I did. The first night, you belong to me."

"Where are you taking me? You don't know my area," I say, complete with a neck roll and 'Z' formation finger snaps.

"Hey, hey," he holds his hands up. "You just let me handle all that madness. I promise you'll enjoy yourself," he assures. "After all, it involves food so that's already a good start."

"Touche," I say, pointing a chip at him with a smirk. "Wise man."

"One tries, one tries."

"So, when does your plane leave?" I ask, folding up the chip bag and settling back on the couch.

"At like nine tomorrow morning. I should get there around maybe four or five-ish, I think. Alice has all the details."

"That's so late!"

"Yea, and also..." he trails off and scratches the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I have a meeting tomorrow night with the bosses. So, I'm gonna be off the plane, straight into a shower and then to the hotel and I'll probably crash their for the night."

"But I owe you a slow motion airport run." I pout.

"So overrated," he fans a hand. "Now, slow motion hotel runs are even better."

"I guess..."

"You can run to me in slow motion, fast motion, in an airport, in a hotel...and I would still just eb overwhelmed at the fact that I'm with you at all, Bella."

"You effing sweetheart. Stop." I cover my face as a rare blush colors my skin. "Fine, fine. Why you gotta be so cute, huh?"

He laughs. "I could ask you the same."

I flip my hair. "It's a blessing and a curse."

"Ha! I bet."

"So, I'll be seeing you day after tomorrow then?"

"Yes. Bright and early and we'll spend the day together."

"Yay. But ugh, I have work. Where are you staying, I'll meet you there after." After the board game shopping spree I needed the extra shift, or I'd have called off. Plus, Mike's making Rosalie clean the burners in the back and Blondie in a hair net squealing and scrubbing is too entertaining to pass up on.

"The Wilson Hotel," he reads off a post-it by the computer. "I'll wait in the lobby. What time are you off?"

"I'm only filling in for baby-balls Seth so I'll be off at twelve."

"Perfect. I have to finish packing," he sighs, pointing to the mess of a room behind him.

"Grr. Have fun."

"What's not to love about packing?" he groans. "Bye, Cowbell."

"Bye, Mr. Skype. Wait-" I say, before he clicks out. "Don't. Forget. My. Pizza," I say, using my scary Terminator voice and my pointing finger to emphasize the seriousness.

"I wouldn't dare."

**A/N: YEAAAAAAAAA HE'S COMIIIING! …...not like that, you pervs...heheheheheh**

**But yes, it's true. Next chapter will include the meet up and hopefully it will be longer than this one. The shortness of this chap pissed me right the fuck off but I couldn't think of anything to add. **

**Anywhozers, f. , I despise Lucky Charms and pretty much any cereal that isn't Frosted Flakes. Fun fact! And those scary Leprechaun movies...good times, my granny and my sister and I used to watch them when they came on TV every St. Patrick's Day. Good times. AND I HATE THE WAY WALMART IS ORGANIZED. THERE IS LITERALLY AN ENTIRE AISLE DEDICATED TO MONSTER HIGH AND THEY DON'T EVEN GO HEERE! UGH.**

**Reviewers get Lucky Charms(or preferred ceral, but I ain't buying yo milk, homies), a lsice or pizza and Skypward running to them in slow motion. Good ass deal, if ya ask me. **

**~LazyMasochistBoot**


	18. I Eat Twenty-Six Chicken Wings

**A/N: Hello lads and ladies. I want a bunch o'frickin reviews for this meet up, capiche? -that was done in my best Mafia voice-**

**I suck at updating but I love you all.**

**Aight, on with it, Jeeves!**

**Chapter 18: I Eat Twenty-Six Chicken Wings Then I Lick My Fingers**

Today is the day. Today is the frick-frackin, motherchuckin, tub pluggin, foot stompin, hand clapping day! Holy cheesus, he's in my state. Mr. Skype is here in good old California and I will be seeing him. Lordy cheesus.

He sent me the address of his hotel earlier and told me how to get there. It's some ritzy, fancy pants, look at my pinky in the air establishment. All I had to do now was get through this horrendously poopy work day. It's especially poopy since one of the fry-cooks quit. Mike's breathing down my neck, even has the audacity to have me cooking the fries _and_ working a register. Is this guy insane? I barely do one job, let alone two of em. Glutton for punishment, he is.

"What up, welcome to Newton's, what're you eating, dude?" I ask cheerily to the chubby chipmunk of a sweaty man in front of me. I bump my fist to his briefly and he stands stark still, looking at me like I've grown antlers. Geez. He's obviously not down with O.P.P.

"Can I get a number 8?"

A thought crosses my mind suddenly. Like most. "Why do you phrase it like a question?" I wonder. "I mean, we sell food here so how come you come in and ask if I can give you food? I mean, yes, you certainly can have a number 8, in exchange for pieces of paper with dead people on it. That's how it works, right? Am I supposed to go 'Can I have four dollars and fifty-two cents for your meal?' No. I don't get it. You get it?" I ask him.

He apparently doesn't get it, judging by the blank, open mouthed stare he's giving me. I roll my eyes and hold out a hand.

"Four fifty-two."

His thick hand drops the money in my hand and I toss him a receipt. Why does no one understand me? I ponder and my phone vibrates.

"Hi, can I get a-"

"Hold on," I say, holding up a finger to the woman that steps up to the counter as I pull my phone from my boot.

**Just finished a meeting a while ago. Dying to see you.**

I giggle to myself as I read it and hear the woman huff which I find incredibly rude because I'm only responding to a text. Geesh.

**I'm off in ten. Rushing over!**

I squee as I hit send, glad that Mr. Skype asked for my number earlier this morning. Rahhh

"Can I get some service around here?" Rude, Huffing Lady asks, hands on her hips, a thick brow raised like she's tough taffy.

"I don't know. Can you?" I shrug.

"What?" she questions, looking confuzzled.

"Out of curiosity, when you were in school and you had to go to the bathroom, what did you ask the teacher?" I hang an arm over the register, leaning in.

"What the- I don't know, I asked can I go to the bathroom?"

"Exactly!" I exclaim, pointing at her. "_Can_ you? Are you physically able to? Yes. _May_ you? That's a different question. You feel me?" I shake my head with a sigh. "But, alas, that's a different subject. May I take your order?" I smile at her. She's gaping like chubby chipmunk was.

Behind her, I hear a chuckle start up. It's deep and smooth and...familiar? No...

"Shit toothpaste!" I whisper-yell. A head peeks around the side of Rude Huff Lady and I nearly crap my tacky pants. "Mr. Skype?!"

He grins as he sees me. A big, wide, grin that stretches his face and makes two dimples appear on each side of his mouth. I squeak before I can stop myself.

"Hi, Cowbell." And there's his voice, minus the grainy quality of Skype. It's him and it's all manly and laksfhgtndfwoh!

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm surprising you! Are you gonna give me my slo-mo run or what?" he holds his hands out, still smiling.

"Ahh!" I hop the counter and jump down, pumping my arms and feet slowly, slurring his name in a deep voice as I make my way over. "Miiiiiiisterrrrrrrr Skyyyyyyypuh!"

His laughs cheers me on til I reach him. He pulls me into him, looking down at me as I crane my neck to look up. Well, he certainly has legs. Very long one's.

"You're here!" I cheer, hopping in place.

"I am! You're so short," he remarks as I pout. "And you were worried _I _was the leprechaun."

"Shut it," I say, punching his arm half-heartedly. "I'm perfectly average."

"Mmhmm. And adorable."

"Oh yea?" I tease, batting my eyes. "Does the hairnet do it for you? Or the hat?" I ask, pulling on the cap and the netting that peeks from beneath it. It's then that I realize-

"Ewwwwww, I'm all sweaty and I smell like grease and fried ass-chips. Don't look at me!"

He laughs at me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "You look gorgeous." Suh-woon.

"You're such a good liar. Look, I'm getting grease all over your lovely...suit." I waggle my brows up at him, finally noticing the black suit he's wearing. The pants fitting perfectly across his slim waist, the white button down fitting his long torso wonder-fucking-fully. The black tie is what does it for me though. "You literally rushed over here? Didn't even change your clothes from the meeting?"

"Nope. I wanted to see you. And guess what?" he leans in and bites his bottom lip swiftly.

"What?"I ask, barely able to divert my attention from the yumminess of his lips.

"Your pizza is in the car outside."

And just like that I'm out. "I'm punching out, Mike! And the fries are burning!" I yell, towards the kitchen as I tear the through the door. Mr. Skype opens the door to a swanky blue car sitting at the curb of Newton's. I yank open the door and there on the passenger seat is a small square box with the word Giordano's across it.

I take a bite and flop myself down into the seat before Mr. Skype can even get in on his side. "Sweet greasy heaven above," I moan as I chew. "I'm not saying you were right, Mr. Skype, but you were so right. This pizza is the shiz from above."

He laughs at me as he starts the car. "Cowbell, you realize you're eating cold pizza from like two days ago right? I mean I refrigerated it but you should heat it first."

"What you fail to realize, sir," I say, mouth full of sausage-y goodness, "is that I am a _professional_ eater. I once ate twenty-six hot wings in one sitting. I think I can handle some cold pizza."

**SWS**

"Aghhhhh! Frick my soul!" I scream as I stumble into my apartment, clutching my stomach. "Mother of Snookie!" I collapse on the couch and immediately curl into a ball. Mr. Skype hovers over me, hands raised over my body like he's performing some healing ritual but really he's just sorta frozen in place looking at me like I'm a two headed sheep giving birth, while he decides if he can help.

"Skype, it's okay. I'll be fi- shit tacos and ham!" A sharp, Jackie Chan kick of a pain in my stomach interrupts me rudely.

"No, you're not. What a way to start off. I gave you food poisoning!" His hands attack his hair and he starts pacing in front of me.

"No," I groan, flipping to my back. "Remember that heroic twenty-six wing meal I told you about? Yea, that may have happened this morning. Maybe the cold pizza was a bad idea but it's definitely not the only to blame."

He looks like he can't decide whether to laugh and eventually finds a medium with a hushed chuckle. He sits gingerly on the couch and squeezes my knee. "You ate twenty-six hot wings for breakfast," he repeats, shaking his head. "Well, can I get you anything?"

"Donuts would be nice right now. Or ice cream!" I suggest. I'm down but I'm not out. My appetite isn't at least.

I'm met by his pearly grin. "How about water?"

I roll my eyes. "Fiiiine. I guess. There are some in the cabinet over the sink."

"You don't keep your water in the fridge?" He raises a brow at me.

"I don't like cold water. Tastes like butt cakes."

"So, you prefer hot water. Got it," he says like he's making some checklist as he heads off to the kitchen.

"Room temperature!" I amend with a grumble.

**SWS**

The day is spent with Mr. Skype at my beck and call, feeling still like it's his fault I'm curled up like a roach in a Raid commercial. I seriously consider making a mental note to remember hot wings for breakfast is a bad idea but then I remember the saucy goodness and decide to ditch that note. Plus, I got a comforting back rub from Mr. Skype out of it and I'm thinking it's worth it.

I'm majorly pissed Mr. Skype and I didn't get to go out with the grand plans he'd apparently made but honestly, the night in with him, just talking and laughing was pretty groovy in and of itself.

If I'm being honest, there was always this sucky little part inside me that was convinced when he and I met, it'd be totally different than our Skype's and we'd have nothing in common and he'd throw a slushie at my face and skip off into a field of daisies without me. That was a very disturbed part of me that I'm happy to say was wrong. It just sorta felt right.

And so here I lay, on the cusp of sleep and consciousness in bed. Mr. Skype, ever the effing gentleman insisted on sleeping on the couch, even after I practically verbally leg humped him to sleep in the bed with me. Smelly, stinky, responsible poop head. I grumble and origami my pillow into an acceptable shape before I settle on my back and attempt to sleep.

I'm almost gone when I hear my noisy ass door sneak open. Seriously, good luck to any burglars who try and come in because you can hear my apartment creak all the way in Timbuktu.

I pretend to be sleep when he starts tip-toeing across the hardwood floors that do their best impression of rubber duckies with every step you take. I throw out a fake snort of a snore for good measure when the covers are pulled back and the bed dips. I groggily mumble something about fruit juice and he chuckles in the silence.

"You're terrible at pretending to be asleep," he breathes out.

Damn. The jig is up. I peek at him. "I'll have you know, I played a daisy in a school play once. I'm a born actress."

I see his dimples in the darkness. "Forgive me."

"What happened to your couch plans?" I ask.

"Your house makes freaky noises. I didn't want you to be scared so I came to comfort you."

I laugh. And flip the lamp by my bed on to see him. "I think you were scurred, boyfriend" I taunt, complete with ducklips.

"You'll never get me to admit it," he jokes.

We do this weird thing where we sorta stare at each other with goofy grins that slowly fade off as the moment gets more intense and the violins play in the background and some one sets doves loose behind us. Then, right before sniper baby cupid comes out to pop some arrows in us, Mr. Skype talks.

"Bella."

And I mean, I don't know, maybe I suck at these moments because I furrow my brows and sorta glance away for a second because what am I supposed to say to that? _Yes, me name Bella. You Edward?_

"Edward," I say back in the same breathy tone he used.

He laughs at me for the millionth time for some unknown reason and then leans closer to me. "Bella," he repeats, though this time it's with a crooked smile like he knows what I think about his mysterious name calling and is mocking me.

I frown a bit. "Edward," I huff and then, to shut him up, I just attack his face with my face and we're smooching.

He's caught off guard at first but then smiles against my mouth and tucks a hand into my hair, drawing me closer. I rub at the soft hairs on his arm and struggle not to swing a leg over his hip and go Bronco Bill on him. His lips are like sweet, sweet, cotton candy clouds in Narnia. And for a while there's no sound except for the meeting and separation of our lips. He doesn't slip me the tongue cobra, it's just us there, plain and simple. My toes don't curl but rather my feet start doing this back and forth swaying motion like celebratory munchkins in Oz. What I like most is that he tastes like the banana ice cream he hijacked from my freezer earlier. It's just all kinda perfect.

He pulls back first because, best believe, I wasn't coming up for air anytime soon, and pierces into my very soul with those green eyes. Or whatever cheesy kind of metaphor I should insert here. Bottom line, his eyes were intense and my Spongebob undies were due for changing.

"I wanted to kiss you first," he half pouts.

"Well, before or after the name fest?" I retort, putting one hand on my hip for sass points.

"After," he smiles.

"I'm a very impatient person, Mr. Skype."

"Well then, I won't keep you waiting, CowBell," he says before he touches his lips to mine again.

**A/N: Yay, as promised, this is longer than the last chapter! I'm really sorry it took so long, I love these characters but I really run out of places to go with them sometimes, I feel.**

**The can you/may you debate is all from my Human Geo teacher who, whenever you asked 'can I go to the bathroom?' responded with "I don't know. Can you?" and I love her for it.**

**Bella's ROOM TEMPERATURE water debacle. That's all me. I hate cold water with a passion, it does taste like butt cake. Plus, I have sensitive teeth so no bueno.**

**The chapter title is a nod to Jack White's wonderfulicious song Sixteen Saltines, go check it out. It's RAWRsome.**

**I'm going to try to make chapters not take forever and a day anymore and for factual purposes I'm gonna point out that I finished this chapter on 7/24/2013, let's see when this baby actually gets out.**

**Thank you all once again for sticking with me and these crazy kids through my insanely sucky updating. I love you for it!**

**Reviewers get twenty-six hot wings or, for my vegetarians...tofu? A coupon? I dunno.**

**~Marie(LazyMasochistBoot) Twitter: ElmoStew**


	19. The One In Which They DateKinda

**A/N: YELLO! How's it hanging? A little to the left? Well then...**

**Told you it wouldn't be as long next time, didn't I? Anyways, thanks for the love last chapter. As always, I really appreciate your patience and dedication and continued interest. You're all little wonderful sexpots. (Compliment from me.) And I'm gonna get really sappy in the author's note at the bottom...just warning you...**

**Anywhoz, please enjoy a first date you'll never forget.**

**Chapter 19: The One In Which They Date...Kinda**

I was having the best dream. I'd been challenged to a dance off by the one and only Beyonce. We were in this dingy warehouse, my crew cheering me on behind me. Mr. Skype had a cap strategically tipped over his right eye and was in one of those tracksuits looking like a total wangsta and periodically yelling 'Shake what ya mama gave ya, baby girl!' in my ear. Beyonce was giving it her all, shaking that healthy butt all over the place, twerking her absolute heart out but it was _she_ who was not ready for my jelly as I pulled out the show stopper: the running man—

"Oof!" is the first sound I hear when I wake up. The second sound is a loud thump. My eyes fly open immediately and I do a tuck and roll outta bed, grabbing the can of Pringles from my bedside table and holding it like the vicious item I can make it be.

"I will sour cream and onion the hell out of you!" I yell to whoever's on the other side of the bed. They groan in response and move to stand up but I chuck the can at their head just as they make it to their feet. And, yea...as soon as I hear the thud of tin can against skull, I realize that um, I didn't go to sleep alone last night and I just reamed none other than Mr. Skype in the head with a can of Pringles.

"Fart toaster!" I say, flopping face down on the bed hoping my Dora the Explorer spread sheet will suffocate me.

"Jesus, Bella, first you ninja kick me out of the bed then you crown me with...Pringles?" I'm beginning to get accustomed to the sound of his laughing at me. Or I was accustomed to the soft chuckle of acceptance he did, however, the full on I'm-About-To-Shit-My-Gucci-Pants cackle he's doing right now is new. I peek up and the man is red with laughter.

"You gonna die over there or...?" I ask.

"Have I ever told you you're one of a kind, CowBell?" he wonders, hee-hee-hoo-hoo breathing to calm himself.

"I may have heard it before," I shrug.

"I can't believe you threw a can of Pringles at me," he grins, moving his red face closer to mine.

"I can't believe it's not butter, but we're all gonna have to make some sacrifices in life, now aren't we?" I smile and I give his rosy cheek a peck.

"No real kiss?"

"You don't want to kiss a Cowbell in the morning, Edward. It's just not something you do." I roll over off the bed and head for the bathroom.

**SWS**

"What's on the agenda for today?" I ask, shoveling a spoon full of Frosted Flakes in my mouth. Boyfriend was in the splash zone and wiped some milk from his hand.

"Well," he says, smiling. "I know I'm supposed to take you out to dinner-"

I bounce on the couch. "Tacos? Wings? Pizza? You're taking me to a burger joint, aren't you? Reservations at Wendy's! I-"

"The scary part is you're genuinely excited about that idea," he says, holding up a hand and giving me a parental 'What direction is your life going' look. I shrug. "I was going to take you out, but, after some serious considerations...about your eating habits," he grins at me so I know he's kidding. "…I decided a night in would be best," he smiles that wide lemme-hear-your-panties-drop-smile and waits for me to nod, mouth full before continuing. "I want to cook something for you."

"Sveet muverfuggar!" I say, spewing a few stray flakes his way. Some humane, girly part deep inside me says something like 'are you a girl or a caveperson?' and flips her hair but I body slam her back into the dark depths of my mind- Jesus, I'm insane...

"I'm going to take that as a yes?" he laughs, wiping milk from my mouth.

"It's a definite yes!" I say after swallowing.

"Good," he says, leaning over to kiss my head and I swear on every pineapple under the sea that I almost swoon off my seat.

"Vroooooom!" I say as I zip down the aisles, grabbing a box of Oreos as I pass them. Mr. Skype's laugh rings out behind me as I come to a stop on the cart. I turn around and he's grinning, jogging up to me, a piece of copper hair flopping as he comes. Sigh.

"Are you really riding a shopping cart in the store, Cowbell?"

I roll my eyes at the question. "Why does everyone ask that? It's much quicker than walking and it's fun." I wink and bump his hip, grabbing a bag of marshmallows I see behind his head and tossing them in the cart.

"Does no one here ever say anything?" he wonders, looking around suddenly.

"Oh yea, they hate me here. I knocked over a soup display once..." I grimace, remembering the bruise I got on my knee after that catastrophe.

He laughs. "How'd that go?"

"Surprisingly well, actually. They didn't even make me pay for the damaged cans. They were more concerned about getting me out of the store," I chuckled, remembering the manager's red face. People need to lighten up.

He shakes his head, the Bella-smile present again and I shrug. He moves my hands from the cart, gives me a playfully stern look and starts pushing the cart down the aisle.

"Prude," I scoff. He ruffles my hair then pulls me in front of him, trapping me between the cart and himself before kissing the top of my head.

"Where's the bread aisle?"

"Where's the fun is the question..." I mumble, pouting. He stops and tilts his head to look at me. He takes in my judgemental pout and lets out a breath, cracking the knuckles on each hand before putting them back on the handle.

"Okay, Bella. Hop on."

"What?" I breathe a laugh, looking up at him but all I see is chin as he looks forward in concentration.

"The cart, Bella. Hop on."

Hesitantly, I step onto the bar at the bottom and grab the handle. "What are you- Edward!" I half scream, half yell as he takes off in what is the fastest, most unsafe sprint down a narrow cookie aisle ever. He gains speed and then I feel his feet join mine on the bar as we zoom down the long aisle.

"Who's fun now?" he whoops in my ear, laughter and breathlessness apparent in his voice.

"You win!" I look back at him again to find he's already peering down at me, the kid-in-a-candy-store bliss on his face making my heart do weird somersaults. His head moves towards me as we coast, the air whipping at our faces, sending strands of my hair to and fro and somewhere in my mind I store this as the best kiss ever. I mean who can say they've kissed a gorgeous man while going twenty miles an hour on a shopping cart and lived to tell the tale?

"Watch where you're goin- shit!" I hear and I pull myself from Edward's mouth and whip around in time to see a worker shielding his face with his arms, sacrificing himself for the orange display behind him. I guess I spoke too soon on the 'lived to tell the tale' part?

"Oh my God!"

"Shit!" Edward yells and slams his foot on the ground. And literally the squeal of the cart coming to a stop, just inches away from the boy, is heard around the world.

**SWS**

"You're staring." Mr. Skype says, peeking over his shoulder with that perfect grin. He brings a thumb to his mouth to suck off some sauce and a part of me dies. Food and a sexy man makes Bella a happy girl.

"I can't help it," I say from my perch on the counter behind him. "I smell food and you're being all attractive and stuff. It's ruining my brain." I cross my arms and sulk before going back to my routine of staring at all six feet plus of sexiness. Mr. Skype in a suit is wonderful but Mr. Skype in a red v-neck and dark wash jeans is a sight to behold. Especially when said v-neck hugs his long torso just right and lets gingery wisps of hair peek out and chant 'Look at me, Bella! Look at meee!" everytime he turns around.

"Yea, well you almost got me arrested for disorderly conduct!" he informs, bringing his hot pot of whatever he's been stirring for an hour over to me.

"Me?" I exclaim. "Hey, hey, buddy, you're the one who went all turbo on the cart!" I stick out my tongue.

"Peer pressure," is all he says, smiling. "Try this. It's soup." He brings the wooden spoon to my mouth, a yummy looking red broth beckoning to me. I blow on it and then slurp some off the spoon.

"Duuuude!" I gape. "That's fucking delicious." It burnt the fuck out of my tongue but seriously, it was like licking a cloud from Heaven, you feel me? Like finding out who let the dogs out or if T-Pain ever bought that girl a drink. It was a slurp of wisdom, my friends. A slurp of wisdom.

"Really?" he sighs and moves away to turn off the stove and bustles around, pulling out bowls. "I was worried you wouldn't like it. It's my grandmother's recipe."

"Why wouldn't I like it?"

"Because it's vegetable soup and you live on a diet of Rice Krispies," he jokes. Whoa.

"There's vegetables in there? H-how? It tasted like a hot wing milkshake! You've ruined the illusion!" I move to help him set the table but he shoos me away and pulls out my chair.

"Just sit. I've got the rest," he says, pushing in my chair after I've sat. "It's assorted vegetables, a little tomato sauce, some meat and spices, nothing too special but I love it. My grandmother would make it for me when I was sick, on my birthday, whenever. It was great."

I smile at the fond look on his face as he moves dishes back and forth to the table. "And, dinner is served," he announces as he sits a bowl in front of me.

It's a deep pretty red, the colors of veggies shining through the broth and it smells amazing; I'm most excited about the pieces of meat I see dispersed throughout. "What kinda meat is this?!" I ask, licking my lips.

"It's steak," he chuckles at me.

"You're a beautiful man," I declare. "I love steak."

"I hoped you did. And I made this." He pushes a basket of golden, buttery garlic bread to the center of the table and my tongue swims laps in the pool of drool collecting in my mouth.

"Oh my God. You're perfect!" I say, pulling pieces of bread into my bowl. "Thank you so much," I pause, "seriously. This is all amazing."

He takes his seat diagonally next to me and picks up my hand to kiss it, all regal and shit. Prince Charming. "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that. I was so nervous."

"You had no reason to be. This food is orgasmic-"

"No, I mean, about everything. Coming here, meeting you, all of it..." he trails off, yanking a hand through his hair. "I was worried, yknow?" he looks up at me with anxious, big green eyes. "I was scared it'd be different when we finally got together. Scared I wouldn't feel the same way or that you wouldn't feel the same way. I was afraid that reality would be trumped by whatever fantasies we built up in our heads." He bites his lips, his brows pulling together in a way I don't like.

"Edward-"

"Wait. I just, I want to say- I mean, I want you to know...fuck," he stutters. He takes a deep breath, meeting my eyes with a determined look. "Even if it isn't reciprocal, I want to say that these past twenty four hours have been the best of my life. I've honestly never felt so close, so comfortable to someone so quickly and every fantasy I've built up about what it'd be like to be here with you has proved true. You're perfect, Cowbell."

I shake my head, looking for a response but finding nothing but, "Ditto."

He lets out a breath in the form of a laugh and pulls me in for a kiss on the cheek. Then he stands suddenly. "Okay, so I wasn't snooping but I saw this yesterday." He walks over to the couch and picks up a CD case. "Dance with me. We'll snack out on the sofa later. It's much more us than the table anyway."

Us. "Of course." He puts the CD into the laptop on the table and skips to our song.

He pulls me over behind the couch, the most spacious area and puts his hands on my waist. "It's weird."

"Hmm?" he says into my neck and I brings my arms around his shoulders.

"I never really thought it'd happen in real life; this dance..."

He chuckles into my ear. "Ow!"

"What?" I pull back, worried.

"You stepped on my foot," he grins and I return it as I realize he's reenacting our Skype call.

"Oh, I beg to differ. I'm quite the dancer." I sway my hips and just like before, completely unplanned, I start to topple and almost bump into my couch but Edward holds me up.

"Yea, I can tell." He dips his head back to my neck. "You weren't lying about the strawberry." He inhales, his thumbs moving softly on my waist.

I tuck my head into his chest and take in his scent. Something like cinnamon. "I wasn't."

_I've got all you've waited for_

_I've got all you need_

He hums along to the song, his voice vibrating against the skin of my neck and all of him attacking my senses, makes a strange tingle start at the corner of my eyes. "Oh God."

"What's wrong?" he asks, pulling back to look at me concerned.

"I'm about to do that thing where wet stuff comes from my eyes." I panic.

"Cry?"

"Don't say the word!" And then I break out into big girl sobs. I try and hide my face in his chest but he grabs my chins and pulls me where he can look into my big fat cry baby eyes.

"Oh, Cowbell, you're so beautiful," he smiles and brushes tears from my cheeks.

"Only for you, Mr. Skype, would I be such a girl," I quote, with a watery smile.

"I'm honored, Cowbell, truly honored."

And he tilts my chin up to silence my bitch-tears with his kiss.

**A/N: This took forever because I overanalyzed and then freaked out about how to make their date go but then I realized that these two are derps and it didn't need to be some extravagant chapter. It was full of sap and we saw a bit of a different Bella. I hope you guys are okay with a tiny break in her insanity to make room for something else.**

**So, as promised, I'm about to deliver the sap. So, here goes. I LOVE YOU, MAN! Yes, you, with the raised fork in your hand, with your hand in the chip bag, with the donut at your lips(I'm assuming all my readers like food, right? I mean you can't read SWS without being a slop..it's a requirement) I'm talking to you! Seriously, I just got done re-reading some reviews and I felt the need to really tell you guys how wonderful y'all are. When you guys tell me you laughed hard at the chapter, you woke your family with your cackling, you busted a blood vessel holding in snorts(Okay, I made that one up but) it does amazing things for my ego, yes, and it brightens my day and reminds me why I love to write. The communicationnnnn! You're all the best kinds of weirdo's and sweethearts and you just get me...yknow? You...you complete me. *a single tear falls down my face* So, thank you from the bottom of my left kidney for the love and support. (And btw, sorry I sucked at replying to reviews last chapter, I did read them though! College crap is ruining me.. -_-)**

**Also, to picture Bella's apartment...I have it in my head of course but um for you guys...think Jesse Eisenberg's apartment at the end of Adventureland if you've seen it...OOH! or...think Monica and Rachel's apartment in Friends only there's only one bedroom on the right with a bathroom attached to it and the door on the left is a closet...make sense?**

**Anyway, as always, thanks for reading. This author's note was colossal...**

**Reviewers get a smushed can of soup, an orange and a bowl of soup? Sure.**

**~LazyMasochistBoot(Marie)**


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